‘WE REMEMBER, MATES’
Inspired by his 1976 visit to the USS Arizona memorial, survivor wrote about his experience
Editor’s note: East Texas native Vaughn E. Hamberlin enlisted in the U.S. Navy in 1940 and was only 19 years old, assigned to the USS Tennessee, when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor. His son, Cliff W. Hamberlin, a resident of The Woodlands, said that while his father didn’t talk much to his family about the experience of the Dec. 7, 1941, assault, he was sometimes called on to impart his reflections and recollections at Beaumont-area schools.
But talking about the experience to his family became easier to do after the elder Hamberlin, who died in 1994, penned the following essay. He was inspired to put ink to paper after his first visit to Pearl Harbor’s Arizona Memorial in April 1976, Cliff Hamberlin said.
The younger Hamberlin said the 75th anniversary of the Pearl Harbor attack seemed an appropriate time to rekindle the spirit of the essay and its author: “He wanted people to remember the attack for the people who died there.”
As we glided across the blue-green water of Pearl Harbor, we were all caught up in the beauty of the “Pearl of the Pacific.” My mind quickly traveled back across the years to a Sunday morning not unlike this one.
As a young man of nineteen, I had been assigned duty aboard the battleship USS Tennessee. In two days I would complete my first year in the U.S. Navy. On this particular morning, I was waiting with my fellow softball team members for a launch that was to transport us to the Naval “Rec” field. None of the team ever boarded that launch.
The anticipation of a day of leisure at the recreation field and on the beach was broken by an excited voice on the public announcing system, “All hands man your battle stations!” As the ship’s crew hastened to their stations, I thought, “Why couldn’t this drill have waited five minutes, then we would have been off the ship.” I should have known something was wrong; normally, general quarters was sounded on a boatswain’s whistle, followed by verbal instructions. The voice on the loud speaker began shouting, “This is no drill; it is the real thing!” ‘World on fire’
Before I reached my station the old wagon was shaking from stem to stern. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but the battleship USS West Virginia which was tied to our port side had taken the first of what would be many torpedoes into her port side. World War II had begun.
From that moment on things began to happen so fast and furious it is hard to put them in sequence. The short time that followed branded my mind with memories that would last a lifetime.
The battleship USS Maryland was docked just forward of the USS Tennessee with the USSSS Oklahoma alongside her. None one of the ships escaped being hit by either torpedoes or bombs bs in the first few minutes.
At the beginning of the vicious attack, the Oklahomama was hit hard on her port side de by several torpedoes — as was the West Virginia. It was as standard procedure for all ships to get underway when n under attack; but to everyone’s horror, when the Oklahoma’s lines were cut from the Maryland she immediately began to roll over. It only took a few minutes until she was bottom-up, trapping many of her crew below deck.
The West Virginia would have seen the same fate if an old boatswain on the Tennessee had not refused to allow her lines to be cut from us. She sank only a few feet and her keel rested on the bottom, wedging the Tennessee against the quays, making it impossible for her to move; but without a doubt the boatswain’s decision had saved many lives on the West Virginia. The USS California docked forward of the Maryland had much the same fate as the West Virginia.
Being located as they were, the Tennessee and Maryland were protected from the torpedo planes. Directly aft of us was the battleship USS Arizona and the repair ship USS Vestal was alongside her. Because of Ford Island, the Naval Air Station, the attackers could not make a water approach from our starboard side; however, we did take several heavy bomb hits and a lot of strafing.
Then the biggest blast of the day came; the Arizona blew up! Some believe a bomb went directly in her stack; others believe a torpedo went under the Vestal, hitting her below the armor plating, blowing her boilers and magazines. It seems inconceivable that what I saw could actually happen. Her forward deck seemed to roll forward, and she belched forth fire, steel, oil and men; all coming down on the ships
Defending American territory and defeating those who threatened it, Roosevelt spoke directly to citizens: “Every single man, woman and child is a partner in the most tremendous undertaking of our American history. We must share together the bad news and the good news, the defeats and the victories — the changing fortunes of war.”
The American people heard the call and responded. They would collectively serve their country in different forms — some on the battlefield, many more in factories — to improve the world, despite their lingering reservations and differences of viewpoint. Roosevelt articulated a big goal for all groups, and he made everyone a participant, a stakeholder, and, yes, a public servant. He called the war effort a “covenant with each other before all the world.”
After the war, the public service ethic inspired by Pearl Harbor continued. Americans from all backgrounds served their country in the military, politics, philanthropy and many other fields. Through the G.I. Bill, public service provided access to education and homeownership, both designed to bring citizens together in improving themselves and sharing neighborhoods. For the pre-baby boomer generation that lived through Pearl Harbor as young men and women, working for your country, paying taxes for the common good and defining your success by your public service were essential parts of citizenship. They built the schools, roads, power plants and businesses that continue to undergird our prosperity.
But by the late 1960s, amid controversies over civil rights and an unpopular war in Vietnam, many Americans rejected public service. Bipartisan agreement in 1973 to eliminate conscription and make the military an all-volunteer profession contributed to an abandonment of public service as a marker of citizenship. By the end of the century, the majority of our nation’s business, academic and media elites had never served their country in any serious way — a complete reversal from a generation earlier, when public service was a necessary step to leadership and respectability.
Today, we will never overcome our current divisions by continuing to argue over the issues that divide us. Nor will we rally together magically behind a charismatic outsider who promises to blow it all up. The lesson of Pearl Harbor is that a divided nation needs a common mission and a shared commitment to public service to build new bonds for cooperation, as occurred 75 years ago.
Programs like Teach for America, AmeriCorps, and the Peace Corps are a start, but they remain very small. Our citizens can do so much more.
We should begin with our crumbling infrastructure and fighting terrorism, two topics that received extensive attention in the recent presidential campaign. Our national and state leaders should create new avenues for young Americans to get involved in addressing these needs, perhaps volunteering their skills for a year or two, followed by assistance with education. Young men and women can apply their talents as engineers, translators, social workers and even soldiers. They will learn to work with people very different from themselves and take pride in contributing to the public good. They will define their success not just in what they earn, but how they serve their fellow citizens.
Our divided country needs a new generation to get out of its segregated neighborhoods and away from its electronic devices to work together in public service. That is what the Pearl Harbor generation did when attacked by a foreign foe. Young men and women are fed up with politics as usual, and they are eager to become another “greatest generation,” if only we will give them a chance.