Sunday, April 20, 2008

Whispers of the Past

This past weekend I had the privilege to go to the reunion of the survivors of the USS Mustin DD-413 and USS Hornet CV-8 with my grandfather.

Here is a little of a history lesson of the two vessels. The Hornet was the ship that launched the Doolittle Raiders over Japan in April of 1942. This was significant moral boost to the Americans. The Pacific campaign was not going well and America was still feeling the effects of the attack on Pearl Harbor. The Japanese, however, had it out for the Hornet since she was the platform from which the attack on the home land was launched.

In October of 1942, the Japanese found their opportunity to catch the Hornet. Focusing their attack, they managed to disable her. With the ship listing 15 degrees, they were ordered to abandon ship in the middle of the ocean. The Mustin was one the escort destroyers that picked up a large majority of survivors. Not being able to be towed, the US sank the Hornet to keep from getting into the hands of the Japanese. The Mustin was scuttled after the war in 1945.

In the 70’s, the Mustin association invited the survivors of the Hornet to join them and the two groups have been meeting regularly since. In 1990, my grandfather hosted a reunion in which over 300 survivors attended. This weekend, just a little more than a dozen were able to attend. We are truly losing the greatest generation.

In high school during the early 90’s I was writing a paper on Kamikazes. Knowing they were involved in the attack on the Hornet, I asked my grandfather if I could interview him. Reluctantly he did. The experience was fascinating. But this was the story that stuck out to me:

During the attack, he found a friend of his dying. His asked his friend if there was anything he could do for him. His friend’s last request was for his rosary. Knowing it was dangerous to do so, he went to his friend’s quarters to find the rosary. That was when a kamikaze broke through and exploded warping the hatch. The bulkheads were hot as the plane blazed away. Four Marines, whose turrets had been taken out, heard him banging on the hatch. The Marines ripped away the hatch freeing my grandfather.

This story is the reason I chose to join the Marines. “Never leave anyone behind.” Over a decade ago at a reunion such as the one I attended, my grandfather got to meet the men who saved him, simply by over hearing them tell the story.

This year, I heard my grandfather telling the story again. For the first time, I heard him say the name of the friend who was dying. Then I heard two other men talk about being a part of the bucket brigade that put out the fire from the kamikaze. I heard more of the story than ever. Some of it I prefer not to tell the faint of heart due to the gruesome details.

Also, two ladies were there that were seeking to learn more about their father. It turned out that their father was my grandfather’s squadron commander. He immediately broke into details about their dad. How he took an alarm clock with him when he went to shore to make sure he showed back up on time. How he always had a cigar in mouth. How after being shot down in the Hornet’s final battle, spending 36 hours in the water, being laughed at by Japanese pilots as they flew over and taunted him, that his first action when arriving on the survivor’s island was to find the chaplain and getting services started immediately.

And so the weekend went with stories after stories. Men nearly 90 remembering in vivid details, the events that made them more than comrades, but bound them as brothers.

The event was held in Virginia Beach, VA. This was where most of them were when they heard of the war. My grandfather was here and was brought back to the ship so he could open the safe. We drove by the pier at Norfolk where the Hornet was launched. Pictures lined the walls of the ships in action. Broken video was shown on a time long ago. Laughs were had, stories shared, and lost ones remembered.

As I sat there with my grandfather and his brother as we ate lunch on the boardwalk this weekend, I reflected on what an honor it was to be able to sit with these men and learn history in a way that no text book can ever capture.

God bless the men who defend liberty.