JOURNAL ASSIGNMENTS Read the assigned pages. As you finish each reading, make a journal entry. Your journal may contain artwork, poetry, short stories, newspaper editorials, letters, speeches, audio or video tapes,

anything you wish. Most of you will use a diary format that is, writing down your personal reactions to what you read. The point is to show me that you have read the assignments and thought about the significance of what you have read. You MUST include: --How the document relates to lectures --The significance of the document --Your reaction to what you read --A quote from the document-include the most significant quote from the document and WHY you think it is significant If your journal is in the standard diary format, it should be about EIGHT double- spaced, typed pages long, in standard (not oversized) typeface and with ONE- inch margins. If you are using some other format, or a mixture, use your judgment concerning length/amount. See me if you have questions. **IMPORTANT***. DO NOT MERELY SUMMARIZE WHAT YOU HAVE READ!!!!! SUMMARIES WILL EARN YOU NO BETTER THAN A "C." Late journals, unless arrangements have been made with me, will cost you points. Other issues to think about as you read: --If you had been alive at this time, what would have been your reaction? Would your opinion be different if these events occurred today? Why? --What surprised/shocked/upset you the most? Why? --Is this source important to historians? Why or why not? --Are there other sources that should have been included in the assignment? Why? --What is the writer's agenda (goal)? Do you think he/she was successful? --Who would have agreed with this writer? Why? --Who would have disagreed with this writer? Why? --What impact, if any, did this event (letter, law, etc...) have? --How might the events have turned out differently? --How have your impressions and views changed?/n 458 Eyewitness to America “The Japanese are planning . . . a surprise mass attack." AN EARLY WARNING AMBASSADOR JOSEPH CLARK GREW rew, ambassador to Japan, sent this dispatch from Tokyo to the State De- Gpartment in Washington, D.C. January 7, 1941 There is a lot of talk around town to the effect that the Japanese, in case of a break with the United States, are planning to go all out in a surprise mass attack on Pearl Harbor. I rather guess that the boys in Hawaii are not precisely asleep. "And then we saw the planes . . .” PEARL HARBOR December 7, 1941 Oahu, Hawaii SENATOR DANIEL K. INOUYE Inouye was a high school student when Pearl Harbor was attacked. Later, when he learned he had been denied enlistment in the army because he was training to become a doctor, he quit his studies and joined the distinguished 442nd "Go for Broke! "Brigade (see page 487). He lost an arm in combat and decided after the war to give up medicine. He was Hawaii's first elected rep- resentative in 1959, and in 1962 was elected to the Senate, where he has served more than thirty years. Sunday 90'de ory of lo and dead burt teid me ard 941 in Eyewitness to America 459 The family was up by 6:30 that morning, as we usually were on Sunday, to dress and have a leisurely breakfast before setting out for o'clock services at church. Of course anyone who has some mem- ory of that shattering day can tell you precisely what he was doing at the moment when he suddenly realized that an era was ending, that the long and comfortable days of peace were gone, and that America and all her people had been abruptly confronted with their most deadly challenge since the founding of the Republic. As soon as I finished brushing my teeth and pulled on my trousers, I automatically clicked on the little radio that stood on the shelf above my bed. I remember that I was buttoning my shirt and looking out the window-it would be a magnificent day; already the sun had burned off the morning haze and glowed bright in a blue sky—when the hum of the warming set gave way to a frenzied voice. "This is no test," the voice cried out. "Pearl Harbor is being bombed by the Jap- anese! I repeat: this is not a test or a maneuver! Japanese war planes are attacking Oahu!" "Papa!" I called, then froze into immobility, my fingers clutching that button. I could feel blood hammering against my temple, and behind it the unspoken protest, like a prayer-It's not true! It is a test, or a mistake! It can't be true! but somewhere in the core of my being I knew that all my world was crumbling as I stood motionless in that little bedroom and listened to the disembodied voice of doom. Now my father was standing in the doorway listening, caught by that special horror instantly sensed by Americans of Japanese descent as the nightmare began to unfold. There was a kind of agony on his face and my brothers and sister, who had pushed up behind him, stopped where they were and watched him as the announcer shouted on: “. . . not a test. This is the real thing! Pearl Harbor has been hit and now we have a report that Hickam Field and Schofield Barracks have been bombed, too. We can see the Japanese planes. . . ." "Come outside!" my father said to me, and I plunged through the door after him. As my brothers John and Bob started out, too, he turned and told them: "Stay with your mother!" We stood in the warm sunshine on the south side of the house and 460 Eyewitness to America stared out toward Pearl Harbor. Black puffs of anti-aircraft smoke lit-explan tered the pale sky, trailing away in a soft breeze, and we knew beyond would any wild hope that this was no test, for practice rounds of anti- aircraft, which we had seen a hundred times, were fleecy white. And now the dirty gray smoke of a great fire billowed up over Pearl and obscured the mountains and the horizon, and if we listened atten- tively we could hear the soft crrrump of the bombs amid the hyster- ical chatter of the ack-ack. dered hands absol And then we saw the planes. They came zooming up out of that sea of gray smoke, flying north toward where we stood and climbing into the bluest part of the sky, and they came in twos and threes, in neat formations, and if it hadn't been for that red ball on their wings, the rising sun of the Japanese Empire, you could easily believe that they were Americans, flying over in precise military salute. I fell back against the building as they droned near, but my father stood rigid in the center of the sidewalk and stared up into that malignant sky, and out of the depths of his shock and torment came a tortured cry: "You fools!" We went back into the house and the telephone was ringing. It was the secretary of the Red Cross aid station where I taught. "How soon can you be here, Dan?" he said tensely. "I'm on my way," I told him. I felt a momentary surge of elation- he wanted me! I could do something and I grabbed a sweater and started for the door. "Where are you going?” my mother cried. She was pointing vaguely out the window, toward the sky, and said, “They'll kill y 1 you." "Let him go," my father said firmly. “He must go.” I went to embrace her. “He hasn't had breakfast," she whispered. "At least have some breakfast." "I can't, Mama. I have to go." I took a couple of pieces of bread from the table and hugged her. "When will you be back?" she said. "Soon. As soon as I can." But it would be five days, a lifetime, before I came back. . . . The planes were gone as I pumped furiously toward the aid sta- tion, more than a mile away. The acrid smell of the smoke had drifted up from Pearl and people, wide-eyed with terror, fumbling for some too, A man vell blu not ter bl vond anti- And and ten- ter- sea to at he y r Eyewitness to America. 461 explanation, something to do, had spilled into the streets. What would become of them, I agonized, these thousands, suddenly ren- dered so vulnerable and helpless by this monstrous betrayal at the hands of their ancestral land? In those first chaotic moments, I was absolutely incapable of understanding that I was one of them, that I, too, had been betrayed, and all of my family. An old Japanese grabbed the handlebars of my bike as I tried to maneuver around a cluster of people in the street. "Who did it?" he yelled at me. "Was it the Germans? It must have been the Germans!” I shook my head, unable to speak, and tore free of him. My eyes blurred with tears, tears of pity for that old man, because he could not accept the bitter truth, tears for all these frightened people in teeming, poverty-ridden McCully and Moiliili. They had worked so hard. They had wanted so desperately to be accepted, to be good Americans. And now, in a few cataclysmic minutes, it was all undone, for in the marrow of my bones I knew that there was only deep trou- ble ahead. And then, pedalling along, it came to me at last that I would face that trouble, too, for my eyes were shaped just like those of that poor old man in the street, and my people were only a gener- ation removed from the land that had spawned those bombers, the land that sent them to rain destruction on America, death on Ameri- cans. And choking with emotion, I looked up into the sky and called out, "You dirty Japs!" It was past 8:30-the war was little more than half an hour old when I reported in at the aid station, two classrooms in the Lunalilo Elementary School. I had gained the first six years of my education in this building and before the day was out it would be half- destroyed by our own anti-aircraft shells which had failed to explode in the air. Even now confusion was in command, shouting people pushing by each other as they rushed for litters and medical supplies. Somewhere a radio voice droned on, now and then peaking with shrill excitement, and it was in one such outburst that I learned how the Arizona had exploded in the harbor. Many other vessels were severely hit. And then, at 9 A.M., the Japanese came back. The second wave of bombers swooped around from the west and the anti-aircraft guns began thundering again. Mostly the planes hammered at military 462 Eyewitness to America installations-Pearl, Hickam, Wheeler Field-and it was our own ack-ack that did the deadly damage in the civilian sectors. Shells, apparently fired without timed fuses, and finding no target in the sky, exploded on impact with the ground. Many came crashing into a three-by-five-block area of crowded McCully, the first only moments after the Japanese planes reappeared. It hit just three blocks from the aid station and the explosion rattled the windows. I grabbed a litter and rounded up a couple of fellows I knew. "Where're we going?" one yelled at me. "Where the trouble is! Follow me!" In a small house on the corner of Hauoli and Algaroba Streets we found our first casualties. The shell had sliced through the house. It had blown the front out and the tokens of a lifetime-dishes, cloth- ing, a child's bed-were strewn pathetically into the street. I was propelled by sheerest instinct. Some small corner of my mind worried about how I'd react to what lay in that carnage-there would be no textbook cuts and bruises, and the blood would be real blood and then I plunged in, stumbling over the debris, kicking up clouds of dust and calling, frantically calling, to anyone who might be alive in there. There was no answer. The survivors had already fled and the one who remained would never speak again. I found her half- buried in the rubble, one of America's first civilian dead of the Sec- ond World War. One woman, all but decapitated by a piece of shrapnel, died within moments. Another, who had fallen dead at the congested corner of King and McCully, still clutched the stumps where her legs had been. And all at once it was as though I had stepped out of my skin; I moved like an automaton, hardly conscious of what I was doing and totally oblivious of myself. I felt nothing. I did what I had been taught to do and it was only later, when those first awful hours had become part of our history, that I sickened and shud- dered as the ghastly images of war flashed again and again in my mind's eye, as they do to this day. By the time we had removed the dead to a temporary morgue set up in Lunalilo School, more shells had fallen. It was now, by one of those bitter ironies, that our aid station was hit by our own shells, and we lost precious minutes evacuating what was left of our supplies. Nearby, a building caught fire and as the survivors came stumbling out, whate those could by t noth box sma ogn bod Wa off W 0/n