My ex-wife's mother was a a 16-year old living in Honolulu at the time.....below is an excerpt from her diary. (Unfortunately, she died long before I met my ex, so I never got to hear these stories first-hand.
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Sunday, December 7, 1941
This morning at 7:55, Pearl Harbor was attacked. We are now at war with Japan.
We were all ready to go to church when Dad turned on the radio. There was an announcement telling all reserve officers to report to their stations. Thinking it was just a routine mobilization, he went down to the governor’s office. We, here at home, were not quite sure what it was. After listening to the radio for a while, we realized that it was really war. The announcers kept saying, "Keep off the streets. Get your car off the streets. Do not use the telephone. This is an order. Anyone refusing to comply will be dealt with by the Army." They played various types of music, then every once in a while an announcer would break in with some kind of announcement. They kept repeating, "Keep off the streets. Don’t use your telephones."
Our first reaction was, "It isn’t so. They can’t be actually attacking Pearl harbor." We have been so smug and self-assured and confident. We have lulled ourselves into the belief that we were invincible, that nothing could touch us, that we were perfectly safe. But here it is — there’s no getting away from it. We were asleep while the rest of the world was alert, and we’re paying for it.
I was simply terrified when I heard of it. My teeth chattered and my feet seemed frozen. It seemed so awful that I just couldn’t seem to stop shivering.
An extra came out about 10:00 A.M. It said in screaming headlines 6 inches high, "WAR! OAHU BOMBED BY JAPANESE PLANES!" Some bombs fell in town — one practically in the yard of Washington Place. Dad came home for lunch and told us what had happened. It seems that the planes had swooped down and bombed most of the planes at Hickam Field in their hangars before anyone could do anything. Four big ships were sunk in Pearl Harbor, and Wheeler Field was badly damaged. This was a terrible blow, because it cripples us in the air and whittles our navy down to the size of the Japanese navy. More planes are undoubtedly coming from the coast, but until they get here, we are practically helpless. Of course we have anti-aircraft guns, but they are not so effective as planes.
Tonight we are having a total blackout beginning at nightfall — in other words, we just aren’t going to turn on our lights at all. No doubt they are just waiting for dark to begin another raid.
Nelson’s friend Dale Cunningham called about 12. He said that Hickam Field (where he lived) was being evacuated. He sounded terribly excited and wrought up, and he said that he and his mother didn’t know where to go. We thought that the army would find a place for them. Then about 4 Captain Cunningham called to ask if we knew where they were; because he didn’t, and they were supposed to come here. We haven’t seen them at all, and it’s about 5 now.
The radio was dead for quite a while, from about 10 to 4, during the worst of the battle. The stations just weren’t sending — Army orders. However, there was an Army station sending, and we listened to that. They mentioned a landing party and five troop ships off Nanakuli. Gee! And we were going fishing today, in that very spot! We haven’t as yet heard any more about the landing party. But boy, and I glad that Dad didn’t have time to get a permit to go out!
Beyond a doubt Frank and Bob and Betty and Franny and Bruce and the Lightfoots know all about it. It must be terrible for them to read in an extra that war was raging around the ears of their relatives.
We’re all sure that these ships and planes that are attacking us are German-commanded. Their strategy was too good for Japanese commanders. In fact, it was perfect. They kept stalling and stalling in Washington; and Kurusu, the special Japanese envoy kept taking his time and making polite conciliatory statements, while the enemy got completely ready. Then, on a Sunday morning, without a sign of warning they appeared and pretty well crippled us. They got at the very base of actions, instead of picking off the outer limbs, such as Guam, Wake, Midway, etc. Manila was attacked, also, it seems. But it will take three years to replace those ships. It was all intended to draw the fleet from the Atlantic, so it couldn’t convoy ships to Britain.
The worst part of this war is the waiting. We just sit here, not knowing what is going on and not daring to go to find out.
Monday, December 8
We had a blackout last night. It was really rather exciting, sitting in the dark and listening to police calls, army broadcasting, etc. However, we couldn’t help being scared. All the news seemed so perfectly awful — it seemed that the Americans had been taken completely by surprise, and the place was practically ruined. The mosquitoes were dreadful; and how I hate going to bed in the dark!
This morning Frank [Burns, Mamo's nephew] went down to try to get us some food at Piggly-Wiggly. The army has rationed all the food; we can still buy it, but only regular customers can buy food (that is, the store will sell food only to regular customers), and the customers can buy no more than what he usually orders. Frank was away practically all morning, and Mother was terribly worried. We’re still pretty panicky, because the shock of yesterday hasn’t worn off yet. Anyway, he finally appeared. It seems that there was a perfectly terrific line down there, and he had to wait for hours. They let him buy only one pound of butter and one dozen eggs at a time. Of course it was to prevent people from buying the store out, then hoarding all the stuff and keeping it away from other people. He (Frank) said that there were practically no staples, such as flour, rice, bread, etc., left. Eventually he came home, about 1. He had been gone since 8.
Nelson was called to work by the Boy Scouts this afternoon. He got into his Scout uniform and Frank took him to Punahou. From there he went to City Hall, where he sat around all afternoon and finally mailed one letter.
Blackout again tonight. Foo! More mosquitoes!Mary Lou & Nelson, 1941
Tuesday, December 9
Last night Nelson’s friend Dale Cunningham appeared. It seems that he was staying with some friends of Mrs. Cunningham who lived up Nuuanu. They were too crowded, and yesterday Mrs. Cunningham phoned and asked if they could leave him with us. Anyhow, last night he walked up the front steps during the blackout. Nelson was thrilled. I think it will be a good thing for him to have some companionship.
All the markets were closed this morning — to remain closed all day. The military governor ordered that they be closed until a complete inventory of all food in the Territory was taken. I think it’s a good idea, because until convoyed food ships can get in here, we have to go awfully easy on our food. We mustn’t waste a scrap.
We spent all morning working at our vegetable garden. We dug up most of the front lawn’ and when (and if) Akamine comes on Saturday we can get him to finish the job. I planted a lot of potatoes, beans, tomatoes, marigolds, Chinese cabbage, and birdseed. It rather worries me about what to feed the birds. There is enough seed on hand to last perhaps three weeks or a month for the canaries and two weeks for the lovebirds, but after that I don’t know if I can get anything to feed them. The goldfish don’t bother me any; they don’t eat much, and anyhow, I have enough fish food to last for ages.
Pat Behrens came by while we were digging. I felt sort of queer, because there I was, a perfect mess, with dirt all over me and my hair in my eyes, while she looked cool and neat and not at all flustered. She was taking her little cairn terrier for a walk. War doesn't seem to have bothered the Behrens family — yesterday I saw Mrs. Behrens walking the hound around the block. Gee, I don’t know what they are going to do — they were all set to leave on the 19th because Pat’s dad got his orders to leave for Coronado. They’ll just have to stay here, that’s all. Anyhow, Pat said she volunteered to be a blood donor, down at Queen’s. They haven’t called her het, and she’s just waiting.
Nelson went down to Scout headquarters this afternoon with Dale. They have been just aching to do something ever since this business broke out.
Wednesday, December 10
Today mother, Matah and I went down to the market. The place was simply mobbed. We were lucky enough to get there rather early, so we could go right in. Some people coming a little later had to wait in line outside, because the clerks would allow only a certain number of people in at a time. We got all we wanted, except rice, sugar, flour, and bread. There was a great deal of canned food, but the staples had been cleaned right out. The perishables, especially milk, are not hard to get at all; in fact, there is a surplus of fresh milk.
There were so many people in the place that Matah almost fainted. She got weak and had to sit down and drink some ice water. Finally I helped her out to the car and took her place in line.
Mother bought yards and yards of blue denim at Ireton’s. She got it to lightproof some rooms, so that we wouldn’t have to sit in the dark night after night. This afternoon she and I fixed the study, her bedroom, and my bedroom. It’s really grand, because it shuts out light but lets in air. The one drawback is that during the day we can’t take off the denim shades without prying off all the tacks. Oh well, it’s worth it.
Frank volunteered for coast Guard duty and went down this afternoon to get his identification papers and such. He’s going out tonight with George Stepp and a C.G. crew on the Ahi. Apparently he is to get his breakfasts and dinners from the Coast Guard. Well, he got into the CG service sooner than he expected! Mother is rather worried about him; but she says that we all have to do our part. Besides, Frank and Bob would be doing the very same thing if they were here; and if each one of us said, "My life is too precious to risk," we would all be so soft that we would be beaten completely.
This afternoon from 3 to 3:15 we had a practice air-raid alarm and all the Coast Artillery guns fired a few shots for testing. It really didn’t affect us much, because we were in the house anyway; however, the radio announcers ordered everyone under cover. We just went about our business (inside the house, of course) and 15 minutes later the radio announced that the "air-raid" was over.
For quite a while there has been a searchlight beam that looked as if it came from Fort DeRussy. We don’t know what it’s all about, but we suppose it’s to guide planes in. Bombers have been arriving steadily since Sunday afternoon, and by now we ought to have a perfectly enormous force around here. Also, one bright spot in the sinking of the ships Sunday — a comparatively small number of men were killed. Most of the sailors were in town on shore leave. If those ships had been at sea, fully manned, and sunk away from land, the loss of life would have been simply horrible. It was bad enough, but it could have been worse.
The army has put a ban on the sale of food seeds. We have some on hand, but about all we have are bean seeds — hundreds of them. The seed stores must have licenses before they can sell seeds, and we are just waiting until the Honolulu Seed Co. gets its license.
Mother told Nelson and Dale that they were not to go on Scout duty, and may be they weren’t wild! But Captain Cunningham phoned today and said that he positively did not want Dale to go, and advised mother not to let Nelson go. He said that they were a little too young and impulsive. There are too many guards around with jittery nerves and itchy trigger fingers, and if the boys don’t jump exactly as and when told, they are apt to get shot. Of course Nelson was terribly disappointed, and I can’t say that I blame him; but there are plenty of older men who can handle the job, and the army doesn’t need the boys.
Thursday, December 11
Today I went quite a few places. To the Honolulu Seed Co., for one. They were selling birdseed in quantities of not more than five pounds at a time, so I got five pounds each of canary seed and lovebird seed. Then I hiked up to Piggly Wiggly and bought some more food — canned goods and bread and peanut butter. After that I went up to Sears and bought a sweatshirt for Frank. He was awfully cold last night and needs something to keep him warm tonight. The shirt was scarlet, and he hopes they won’t throw him overboard to cool him off. Anyhow, the color will keep him warm.
I saw Pat Behrens this morning. She said that Cuffy Wilson had enlisted in the army! Of all the loony things! Now he’s stuck for at least a year. Golly! Besides, he’s under age. Frank acted much more wisely, I think. At least, he’s a volunteer and won’t be so much under the thumb of officers and such. I guess Cuffy was just carried away by his enthusiasm. We can’t help feeling sympathetic and understanding his motives, even though I privately think it was a dumb thing to do.
Golly, I haven’t seen Cathy for a week.
Saturday, March 7
This diary has been sadly neglected for some time, the reason being that I have been both too busy and too tired to write in it.
School has started again. We were down at Central Union Church for a while — three weeks, to be exact. Of course it was cramped and not as nice as Punahou — but our poor school! The U.S. Engineers have taken it over, and what a mess! They have dug great holes all over the campus, and goodness knows what they’ve done to the inside of the buildings. They have guards all over the place now — the crummiest, seediest lot I have ever seen. It’s just sickening! In fact, we just don’t mention it to Dad. The subject makes him furious. Anyhow, we are now having school in the University Teachers’ College — hours from 8:30 (daylight saving) to 12:15. It’s really very nice, but I’d rather be back at Punahou.
We all wear slacks to school, even Dr. Browne and Miss Dodge. I have a new red pair that just about knocks your eye out. Quite a sight! Then, too, since gasoline has been rationed (10 gallons a month) we have had Nelson’s and my old bicycles fixed. I painted mine a lovely bright blue.
Of course my dear lovebirds would have to pick a time like this to start raising children! I don’t even know how long I’ll be having food for them. The feed stores seem to have it, but I don’t know at all about whether they’ll be getting any more.
This morning we had another air raid warning. That makes the second in a week! Altogether we have had four since Dec. 7. The army just have the jitters. Goodness knows we do, with those darn Japs taking Java just as they have taken everything else. We’re so afraid we’re next. And everybody — the President and Winston Churchill and practically every important military or civilian leader — seems to think it will get a lot worse before it gets better. Anyhow, to get back to the alarm, we all (Mother, the maid, the yardman, me) went tearing out and got in the bomb shelter. We had our gas masks with us, so we were ready for almost anything. Honestly, what a way to live! Running into a hole in the ground and shivering until you think the shooting’s over!
We still have blackouts every night — 7:30 (war time) to 7 A.M. We have the whole house blacked out, so that it isn’t so very uncomfortable or inconvenient, but it is hard not to be able to go anywhere. We do go for walks, though. Dad has just been appointed block warden, and tonight we went around to inspect Dad’s beat for blackout violations. We’re allowed to walk until 9, but must have cars off the street by 7:30.
Sunday, March 8
This morning we all went to communion — 7:15 mass. With daylight saving time it was really 6:15 — and it was cold! And did I hate to get up! Oh my! The weather has been simply frightful for quite a while—
