"...a date which will live in infamy..."

Monday, December 7, 2009

Yesterday, December 7th, 1941 -- a date which will live in infamy -- the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt, December 8, 1941


In Pearl Harbor, Hawai'i, the National Park Service maintains the USS ARIZONA Memorial. The Memorial itself was built over the sunken hull of the USS ARIZONA, and on a day when the sun is bright and the water is clear, you can see the rusting ship beneath the water. The Memorial itself is simple and clean, and contains a marble wall inscribed with the names of the fallen.

The Memorial is right off of NAS Ford Island, and there are other markers in the waters surrounding the island to mark the other ships lost that day.

I was stationed in Hawai'i for three years while on active duty. During that time, I had the opportunity to visit the USS ARIZONA Memorial with my Grandmother. I was only 23 years old at the time, and lacked a sense of history regarding my service. World War II seemed a million miles away, but going to the Memorial with my Grandmother allowed me to see that time in history through her eyes. She knew several of the young men who perished on that ship, had gone to school with them, and seeing their names memorialized on the wall of the fallen made her cry. That personalized the events of December 7th for me. While I can never know what it was like for those sailors on that day, I could try and serve with the same honor, courage and commitment as the crew of the USS ARIZONA.

Rest, my brothers. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and your example remains for those who still serve.

3 comments:

Jeri said...

Visiting Pearl Harbor and the USS Arizona Memorial made me cry -- and I know no one who was aboard her, or perished in that attack.

The sense of hallowed ground (water?), the feeling of a cathedral, is almost palpable there, and makes decades-old history come alive.

Thanks for the reminder to never forget.

vince said...

Amen, Janiece, amen.

nzforme said...

I visited the Arizona Memorial in 2002. Insanely crowded -- waiting in long queues in the visitors' center before you can go out to the actual memorial. Kids screaming, racing each other, driving the adults crazy. But once we tendered over, the spirit of the memorial itself quieted the kids. Voices dropped to whispers without even being told.

When I travel to crowded "attractions," I often bring a Walkman, so I can have my own soundtrack drowning out the people around me, and I can get my own private sense of the place even when surrounded by busloads of other people. The Arizona Memorial was different -- it had its own sounds: the wind, the ocean, the flag flapping -- and everyone around respected it.

And, unlike most attractions, I didn't want to feel alone there. The sense of loss was so real, the scope of it so huge, I wanted to take my share of it among other Americans taking up their shares as well.