World War 2 according to Yvonne Boucher (in an american point of view)
Everyone was issued a gas mask. My stepfather did not trust the masks being given the civilian population so arranged for us to have those issued to the Marines. In a time when all women carried a purse, a gas mask posed a problem. They were housed in big canvas bags, and the wartime regulations said you could not leave the house without it. Rather than carrying both a purse and gas mask, women simply transferred the contents of their purses to the bag holding the gas mask. The authorities vigorously opposed this practice, but to no avail.
Our nights were punctuated by the sounds of machine gun fire. Young sentries, alone and scared, saw an invading Japanese soldier in every shadow. Several times a week the air raid siren would blare as an unidentified plane was spotted. Because of the blackout the night was completely dark, and I thought the bright beams from the searchlights crisscrossing the sky in ever changing patterns were beautiful. Then too, the children in the housing were no longer able to do the things we usually did. No more riding our bicycles to the rec center, it had become a temporary hospital. No more going on the base to go swimming or to the Y for an ice cream cone. All military sites were off limits.
It is remarkable how quickly humans can adapt to change. Soon our lives under these new rules seemed normal---until Christmas. Normally Christmas trees were shipped to the islands in cargo vessels. Now all available space was reserved for essential items, and since Christmas trees were not considered essential, there were none. All the parents were trying hard to maintain a sense of normalcy for the sake of the children. Everyone was looking in vain for a Christmas tree. One day my stepfather came home wearing a big grin. He held up a brown paper bag from which he produced an artificial tree. It was only about fourteen or fifteen inches tall and unlike today's artificial trees, bore little resemblance to a real one. My sister and I were not impressed. The box of ornaments was brought out, and we began to decorate the tree as we had each year. Our stepfather put on a string of lights, my sister and I put on the ornaments and mother put on the icicles. A pillowslip was wrapped around the base of the tree to represent snow. Some of the lights had to be hidden under the "snow" as the string was too long for the little tree. The ornaments were too big and the icicles on the bottom branches lay on the table like pools of silver, but somehow it didn't matter. We had a shiny Christmas tree and Christmas was on the way. I remember that as one of the best Christmases I ever had. There was a feeling of warmth, of closeness, of caring that was almost tangible, a sense of being blessed somehow.
World War 2 according to: Soichi Yokoi
Initially, Yokoi served with the 29th Infantry Division in Manchukuo.
In 1943, he was transferred to the 38th Regiment in the Mariana Islands.
He arrived on Guam in February 1943.
When American forces captured the island in the 1944 Battle of Guam, Yokoi went into hiding with ten other Japanese soldiers.
Seven of the original ten eventually moved away and only three remained in the region.
These men separated but visited each other until about 1964, when the other two died in a flood.
The last eight years Yokoi lived alone.
Yokoi survived by hunting, primarily at night.
He used native plants to make clothes, bedding, and storage implements, which he carefully hid in his cave
On the evening of 24 January 1972, Yokoi was discovered in the jungle by Jesus Dueñas and Manuel De Gracia, two local men checking their shrimp traps along a small river on Talofofo. They had assumed Yokoi was a villager from Talofofo, but he thought his life was in danger and attacked them. They managed to subdue him and carried him out of the jungle with minor bruising.
"It is with much embarrassment, but I have returned", he said upon his return to Japan. The remark would become a popular saying in Japanese.
For twenty-eight years, he had hidden in an underground jungle cave, fearing to come out of hiding even after finding leaflets declaringWorld War II had ended, believing them to be false Allied propaganda.
Yokoi was the third-to-last Japanese soldier to surrender after the war, preceding Second Lieutenant Hiroo Onoda (relieved from duty by his former commanding officer on 9 March 1974) and Private Teruo Nakamura (arrested 18 December 1974).http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shoichi_Yokoi#War_Years_and_Post-war_Survival
World War 2 according to: Emmy E Werner
Emmy E. Werner survived World War II on the ground, as a child living in Germany, with a family split over both sides of the conflict. That war set more than a few gruesome records, but perhaps the most tragic was that, for the first time in modern history, more civilians than soldiers were maimed or killed in the fighting. Thirteen million were children, and another 20 million were left orphaned by the war. As one of the survivors, Werner carries a unique qualification for crafting this moving and well-researched book, a sweeping, reverently assembled collection of children's eyewitness accounts of that traumatic and uncertain time.
Pulling together contrasting experiences from over 200 different children and teens (drawing from diaries, letters, journals, and a handful of adult interviews), Through the Eyes of the Innocents paints an impressively rich and varied picture of the war. Children on every side of the conflict recount images and incidents ranging from the benign to the horrific, whether it was German youngsters in the Ardennes decorating Christmas trees with radar foil or a 12-year-old writing to MacArthur, begging him to let her "get down in the trenches and mow these Germans down 5 by 5." But Werner manages to temper the horror with hope, devoting much attention to postwar recovery and rebuilding (especially the efforts of CARE and UNICEF), and pleading that we remember the words of the "wide-eyed and defenseless" as we confront the violence of today. --Paul Hughes --
World War 2 according to: Jessie Reed Seyle
We had been on Alert for two weeks but that was called off on December 6, 1941. That night being a Saturday we went up to Wheeler Field to visit some friends of ours in the 19th Fighter Squadron, who had also been on Alert. We had long talked about the reason for the Alert and were agreed that if we went to war it would be with the Russians.
We returned home late that night and at about five to eight AM we heard a loud explosion coming from Pearl Harbor way. I got up and looked out the shades and saw that one of the large oil storage tanks at Pearl was puffing out a lot of black smoke. I told my wife it looked like it might have leaked and exploded. Just then a plane came over shooting its guns and so low I could see it was a Zero with the Rising Sun on it. I said to my wife. “get up we are at war”. I could then hear a number of bullets bouncing off our tile roof. By then we could hear and see the havoc taking place at Pearl which was only about 5,600 yards away. During this time our friend at Wheeler Field called to say they were being attacked and that she had been shot at while going to a friends to use the phone”.
World War 2 according to: Carlos F. McCuiston
It was early in the morning, when three of us, who had breakfast, were sitting around on one of the fellows bed, talking about things in general. We heard an airplane fly over very low making a loud engine noise. One of the fellows said “ It looks like the Navy is practicing dive bombing again”. In less than a minute later, we heard the same airplane sound then an explosion. Since the explosion was unusual, we all walked outside to see what was going on. We passed through the doors of Wing E and were standing on the stair landing, looking toward Wing F. A bomb hit Hangar #7, and exploded. The concussion of the blast blew the three of us off the landing and into a prickly cactus plant. As we got up, one of the fellows said “ What the Hell is going on?” Immediately we heard the squadron First Sergeant yelling,
“ Everybody out, the Dam Japs are bombing us.”
We ran onto the street and short distant away was the Parade Grounds where everyone thought they would not bomb us there. As I was half way across the Parade Grounds, a Japanese plane flew over very low with the pilot and rear gunner quite visible. The Rising Sun Insignia was very plainly visible on the side of the airplane.
The Parade Ground began to fill up with men coming out of the barracks, some of them only had their underwear on. Immediately a Japanese plane came down and started to strafe the Parade Grounds. Men were falling and running in all directions with me heading for the new wooden barracks across the way. I stayed there for a short time watching some men shooting at the Japanese planes with 45 caliber pistols. I left the area to return to the large barracks as I worked in the Supply Room.
On my way back, I walked toward the Hangar Line wanting to see the airplanes that were burning. I stopped and turned back to my original destination. At the same time, a flight of high level bombers came over and bombed us again. I ran toward the large barracks thinking they may be safer. I was later told that I had just left. Some men were killed because of the splinters that flew around when the bombs exploded. From then on, it was known as Splinter City.
I returned to the large barracks and reported to the supply room. The supply sergeant told me to get busy and start passing out rifles and ammunition to the men from our squadron. While in the supply room, another wave of bombers came over and a bomb exploded between Wing E and F, shaking the building. Within a minute, a person came running in saying “ I need some help, the Lieutenant has been hit”. I went with him to the Mess Hall and we picked up Lt. Malcolm J. Brummwell ( Lt. Crittenden), our Squadron Adjutant.
We carried him to the supply room and laid him on the counter. He was bleeding across the chest and moaned from the pain. At this time, there were about five people in the supply room and one called the hospital for an ambulance. In a short time it came to the front of the building and we were told to bring the Lieutenant out. We slid him off the counter and he fell toward me. Another fellow and I carried the injured Lieutenant to the ambulance and laid him on a stretcher. The driver and another fellow slid him in and they turned toward me. The driver, thinking I was wounded also because of all the blood on my shirt, said “Take it easy now and get into the ambulance”. I said there is nothing wrong with me. He replied, “ I know, I know” and began to force me inside where the Lieutenant was lying. I went into the vehicle, crawled over the driver’s seat and went out through the door. As I walked away from the ambulance, the driver, thinking I was in shock, began chasing me yelling for me to come back. He soon gave up, returning to the ambulance and drove the injured man to the hospital. We later learned that he died from the injuries he received in the chest.
As I returned to the supply room, an injured soldier was sitting with his back against the wall near the stairs. He said, “Please help me”. His abdomen was bleeding badly and his trousers were soaked with blood. I looked at him and said “I’ll get you some water”. As I ran into the building, toward the water fountain, I noticed I had nothing to put the water in. Running into the supply room, I asked for a mess cup or anything to get the injured man some water.
Picking up a cup, I filled it with water and ran out only to see the man being taken away on a stretcher.
The roof of the barracks was burning, there was smoke everywhere and the smell of burnt power in the air. The airplanes on the hangar line were burning, there was debris and dirt from the bombs scattered everywhere. I turned and saw a man from our squadron named Bernard Mulcahy. He looked at me and said, “Bernie, I can’t believe what is happening”. He replied, It’s happening, you know Bill, we lived more in the past two hours than we did in our last nineteen years.
We both walked back into the building which was getting thick with smoke from the building roof. I had a 45 caliber pistol in the supply room and picked it up along with a belt and three clips of ammunition. There was talk around about another raid and an invasion. We walked into the mess hall and it was a shambles. Someone mentioned that we would have to move into the mountains and fight off the Japanese.
Invasion talk was everywhere, our Squadron was scattered all around. It was obvious we could not use the barracks because of the smoke and burning odor. As we walked away from the mess hall, I noticed someone brought out a five gallon pail of Maraschino Cherries in syrup, and several five pound packages of American Cheese. Thinking we would have to go to the mountains to fight, we both took a piece of the cheese and I placed two handfuls of the syrupy cherries in my pocket. I picked up my steel helmet and began walking away from the barracks.
Everyone was walking around trying to find people from their outfit. In the entire afternoon, I do not recall meeting anyone from our squadron. As it began to get dark, I ran into a cook standing outside a wooden building. He said I should stay around until the next day. There was a cot in the building and I would have something to eat. I did, and while lying on the cot, I had the 45 pistol near my head ready for any Japanese that came by.
The following day I found a few of our men and they told me we were regrouping in the school house near the water tower. As I went there, I met more people from our squadron, picked up a rifle and was assigned to guard duty at the Post Exchange where all the windows were blown out by the bombs. We remained in the schoolhouse building for several days until a new roof was being placed on the large barracks. After a short time, we were allowed to return to our original quarters in Wing E but could only use the first and second floors. The third floor remained unoccupied.”
World War 2 according to: William Melnyk
The first planes I saw were skimming at rooftop level over our barracks. We could clearly see the rising sun on their wings. The pilots and gunners could be seen looking around. I couldn’t believe that we were being assaulted so far from Japan! An Air Force, middle-aged Sergeant came running toward us shouting for us to take cover and hollering out that he was in World War I and knew what he was talking about. He cried out, “We’re at War! We’re at War!”
The men began to disperse. I made a run for the supply room about 10 yards behind the barracks. Sgt. Owen, the Supply Sergeant, slept inside and he was ready to issue equipment, dressed in his underwear. I was first in line to check-out one of the dozen or so Springfield rifles. Owen passed me a rifle, steel helmet, and a bandolier of 30 caliber ammunition. John Strickland and Sanford Garrett were also waiting for a weapon. Both of these men had previous infantry service in Panama. As I started to rush out into the melee, Owen called me back and ordered that I read off the serial number of the rifle before getting out. I felt insecure inside the wooden building, not being able to see the planes coming to take evasive action. We had been training to obey orders so we had no choice but to give serial numbers while expecting to be blown to bits any minute.
Strickland and Garrett were right along the side of me as we ran outside, where I made an alarming discovery – I did not know how to load the rifle!
As an electrician, I had been trained to use a 45 pistol. I had the bolt back trying to load without success. I shouted to Garrett and Strickland to help me. By now machine gun bullets were slamming into the area; jagged bomb shrapnel was falling all around us. As I put my helmet on, Strickland held my rifle while Garrett showed me how to force the clip of bullets into the magazine. Two years in the Army and I couldn’t load a Springfield! Although I was reared with rifles and shotguns and fancied myself a crack shot, I simply didn’t know how to get the rounds in the magazine. I’m sure my lesson on the Springfield was the quickest in military history. Targets were everywhere by now. I leveled at a banking “Jap” plane, leading him like I had done quail many times in the field at home. The rifle jumped as the high-powered shell exploded and went after the “Jap” plane. I quickly got off the first clip of five rounds. By now Strickland and Garrett had loaded and three of us kept up steady firing on the planes. How much good we did will never be known, but we had the satisfaction of “fighting back”.
“I saw the planes strafing and bombing the base. I saw them strafing people who were on the roads. The planes would swoop down so low we could see the pilot’s goggles.”
http://hawaii.gov/hawaiiaviation/world-war-ii/december-7-1941/first-hand-accounts-of-the-bombing-of-hickam-afb
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