December 1941

by Craig Shirley

  Across America, the refrain “Remember Pearl Harbor!” was heard more and more. It followed in the tradition of other American battle cries: “Give me liberty or give me death!” from Patrick Henry; “Don’t give up the ship!” from Captain James Lawrence in the War of 1812; “Remember the Alamo!” from General Sam Houston, before the 1836 decisive battle of San Jacinto in the Texas War of Independence; and “Remember the Maine!” which found its origins in a gin mill in New York in 1898, shortly after the explosion of the ship in Havana harbor, which sparked American eagerness for the Spanish-American War. (Whether or not the Spanish or their allies had planted a bomb on the Maine was open to question, as it was not unusual for ships of the day to see faulty boilers explode, but for men like William Randolph Hearst, the propaganda value was too attractive to quibble over details such as welders’ seams or the efficacy of iron bolts.)

  Time magazine observed that never had the people of America ever been this united. “What would the people . . . say in the face of the mightiest event of their time? What they said—tens of thousands them—was: ‘Why, the yellow bastards!’”9 December 7 had become indelible.

  Everybody knew where they were on December 7 when they heard the news of Pearl Harbor. There were but a few dates in American history for which someone could say, “I remember where I was when I heard . . . .”

  December 7, 1941, was at the top of the list.

  FDR had yet to meet with navy head Frank Knox, but rumor out of Washington had it that the navy thought it might be possible to refloat and refit some of those ships hit by the Japanese. Because the harbor was relatively shallow and because the Japanese bombers had ignored the dry docks, the damaged and sunken ships would not have to be towed the 3,000-or-so miles to San Diego.

  Still, the fact that repairs were being discussed and that the president had met with Admiral Samuel Robinson—head of the Navy’s Bureau of Ships, which was responsible for construction and maintenance—was confirmation to the casual observer that severe damage had occurred at Hawaii.10

  All major publications had done profiles of the military brass including Admiral Ernest “Rey” King, Admiral Harold “Betty” Stark and Admiral Husband “Kim” Kimmel. Kimmel had been featured on the cover of Time magazine the second week of December.11 Stark had picked up his nickname while an underclassman at Annapolis.12 Time wasn’t afraid of controversy, even as it had a tendency to shill often, for the Roosevelt Administration. Its reporting could be terse, mincing few words. In their November 10 issue, they referred to the New Republic magazine as “pinko,” suggesting the publication was soft on communism.13

  Life and Time magazines took up Kimmel’s cause but they were only two of a very few, to do so. Defending the increasingly beleaguered navy man, Life wrote “Admiral Kimmel had not been given enough patrol planes to spot enemy carriers a night’s steaming away.”14 Still, “there was speculation whether Knox’s investigation would lead to changes in either army or navy command in the Hawaiian area.”15

  On Sunday evening, the fourteenth, Knox—upon his return from Hawaii—gave his report to Roosevelt in a short meeting of thirty minutes. FDR studied it into the evening.16 Knox’s return to Washington was not announced until after he left the White House that evening. Then on Monday, eight days after the attack, some of the brutal truth was revealed to the American people.

  President Roosevelt sent a report to Congress on Monday detailing that Japanese submarines had been used, something not previously confirmed. Elaborating he said, “The actual air and submarine attack on the Hawaiian Islands began at 1:20 p.m. Washington time on Dec. 7.” Enraged, he said that it was well over three hours after the attack before U.S. ambassador Joseph Grew was notified by the Japanese that they had declared war on America. He also observed that “Japan . . . accepted the German thesis of racial superiority and extreme nationalism.” Japan, he noted, had proclaimed herself in 1937 to be of a superior race when compared to any other country “of the Orient.”17

  The document Roosevelt sent to the Hill was essentially a recitation of the steady decline of the relations between the two countries, brought on by Japan’s growing militarism. News reports described the president’s tone in the document as “bitter.” The climax of the FDR’s communiqué exclaimed that “there is the record, for all history to read in amazement, in sorrow, in horror, in disgust!”18

  The report had been sent in part to placate some in Congress who had been agitating for more details. However, those Congressmen knew they had to tread lightly in their criticism. Senator Charles Tobey of New Hampshire, who just a few days earlier had created a scene on the floor of the Senate over the attack by calling for the heads of everybody in the military, was publicly rebuked by the American Legion of his own state, who called on him “to demonstrate undivided allegiance to our country . . . by supporting the proper civil and military authorities of this country.”19

  Knox huddled again that morning with the president for “two hours and 25 minutes” before meeting in a room packed with reporters and photographers. “Knox looked pale and haggard as he talked to the press in his office.”20 The report was startling. The massacre was widespread. FDR called it “barbaric aggression.”21 Americans were prepared to hear of a couple hundred killed. They were not prepared for thousands. “The casualties crept from rumor into uglier-rumor: hundreds on hundreds of Americans had died bomb-quick, or were dying, bed-slow.”22

  The bottom line was that far more men had been killed or wounded than previously thought and far more ships had been destroyed or damaged than previously reported. Knox’s report only dealt with the navy’s losses and only mentioned the army planes and hangers destroyed, although he did say that “army losses were severe.”23

  Knox told reporters that six American warships had been destroyed in the attack. He “declared that the Navy was not on the alert . . . that the Pacific fleet lost the battleship Arizona, three destroyers and two lesser craft . . . . Knox disclosed for the first time that the Navy had suffered 3,385 casualties in the Hawaiian attacks—2,729 officers and men killed and 656 wounded—fatalities in the sudden attack.” He elaborated, saying, “Officers 91 dead and 20 wounded: enlisted men 2,638 dead and 636 wounded.”24

  Still, all the details would not be revealed to the American people, “and no complete report is promised.”25 The other capital ship he named besides the Arizona was the Oklahoma, along with four smaller ships; the Cassin, the Shaw, the Downes, and the Oglala. Not revealed was the number of civilians killed by the Japanese.26

  Knox did say the Arizona was lost due to a direct hit by the enemy, and he dispelled the rumors that the Japanese had any kind of secret weapon or that they had used anything other than single-engine aircraft. Knox said the American forces destroyed three Japanese submarines and forty-one planes. He also claimed that the remaining American ships were at sea, searching out the enemy.27

  Unpromisingly, he told reporters, “We are entitled to know if (a) there was any error of judgment which contributed to the surprise [and] (b) if there was any dereliction of duty prior to the attack.”28

  The Secretary of the Navy also made it clear that Japanese espionage had played a significant role in the attack, feeding the imperial navy constantly with updated information on targets and movements.

  He finished the grim report by saying, “In the Navy’s gravest hour of peril, the officers and men of the fleet exhibited magnificent courage and resourcefulness during the treacherous Japanese assault on Pearl Harbor. The real story of Pearl Harbor is not one of individual heroism, although there were many such cases. It lies in the splendid manner in which all hands did their job as long as they were able, not only under fire but while fighting the flames afterwards and immediately starting salvage work and reorganization.”29

  Knox paid tribute to an unnamed young seaman who, on his own, manned a machine gun and fired the first shots of America in the new war against Japan, “even before general quarters was sounded.” He also paid tribute
to the unnamed captain of a battleship who stayed at his post even as “his stomach was laid completely open by shrapnel burst.”30

  Before departing, Knox told the reporters there would be an investigation into the military leadership in Hawaii instigated immediately by the president.31

  December 15 was “Bill of Rights Day,” a national holiday commemorating the first Ten Amendments to the U.S. Constitution. Individual rights and freedoms took on a new meaning this time around, however, and President Roosevelt gave a one hour address, broadcast live from 10 p.m. to 11 p.m. on all radio networks. FDR, concerned about the agitated state of Americans, used his remarks to warn against “inflamed or hysterical action.”32 CBS Radio also broadcast a special entitled, “We Hold These Truths” starring Lionel Barrymore, Walter Huston, and Edward G. Robinson. Always on the lookout to promote young starlets, a Hollywood studio depicted Gene Tierney in a low-cut white dress, holding an oversized version of the document. Constitution meet Cheesecake. More seriously, concerned about the agitated state of Americans, FDR used his remarks to warn against “inflamed or hysterical action.”33

  The year 1941 was also significant as it was the 150th anniversary of the ratification of the Constitution by the Commonwealth of Virginia, in 1791, “which completed the necessary action on the Bill of Rights and gave it the full force and effect of the Constitution.” Celebrations of the day were far and wide, involving public and private schools and towns and communities. Vice President Henry Wallace laid a wreath at the grave of George Mason, the Father of the Bill of Rights, at the Founding Father’s home in Gunston, Virginia. The governor of Virginia, James Price, also spoke, and a ceremony took place at the tomb of the newspaper editor, John Peter Zenger, “the editor whose trial established the freedom of the press.” The Librarian of Congress, Archibald MacLeish, was the mastermind behind the big day.34

  The original Bill of Rights contained twelve amendments, but the two regulating the pay and the size of Congress were thrown out. As for the ten amendments that formed the final Bill of Rights, in light of current events, few if any people openly commented on which of those were effectively overlooked by the war effort.

  A new document was also signed, but among Allies of a different sort. Together, America, Great Britain, the Netherlands, Russia, Free China, and others met in London and signed a mutual war pact declaring that none of the signers would embark on a separate peace agreement with any of the Axis Powers.35

  On both sides now, it was all-for-one-and-one-for-all war, as representatives of the Axis Powers met in Berlin to map out their war strategies.36 In Syracuse, New York, representatives of the Six Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy met as well to decide their next move. These six independent nations had declared war on Germany in 1917 and were gathering once again to determine if they as a group would declare war on the Axis Powers.37

  Eight days after the attack, the White House was in a full lockdown. Papers and passes were demanded. Cops and military police roamed ubiquitously, stopping everyone, guns bristling. “Soldiers with sub-machine guns,” the Los Angeles Times bluntly noted.38 On the White House grounds, guard towers had been built and one-inch steel cables ran every which way, controlling the flow of foot traffic.

  Security measures continued unabated. In Santa Barbara, miles and miles of federal parklands were closed to the public, including the Santa Ynez River locale. “Public entry is not to be permitted until the close of the war.”39 Entry to the Chesapeake Bay was tightly restricted by navy vessels. “Boats ordered to stop shall comply immediately on pain of being fired on.”40

  The New York state government announced that, in order to save steel, motorists would only be required to have license tags on the back of their vehicles, thus saving annually two thousand tons of the important metal. However, there would be no corresponding reduction in licensing fees.41 It was enough to drive any man to drink, except for German nationals in New York. These “Nazi Citizens,” as the New York Times called them, were prohibited by the state of New York from owning liquor licenses.42

  In short order, the federal government ordered a halt to the manufacture of all new pots and pans and kitchen appliances made of iron or steel, and the industry “discontinue the use of brightwork or trim containing copper, nickel or aluminum.”43 However, a “war train” of sorts—but really called the “Defense Special”—was already touring the country, showing businessmen what the military needed to have manufactured. On the train, organized by the Office of Production Management, were blueprints and prototypes of fashioned metal parts.44

  The culture had changed so deeply that Time magazine devoted a long article to the advantages of arc welding in the building of planes and ships.45

  Washington was seizing an increased number of neutral or civilian ships, including those of allies, under the nautical rules of “angary.” Maritime Law provided for a nation, during wartime, to take any and all vessels in order to defend itself. Still, the oceans would shortly be crammed with American-made ships. In anticipation of all that new construction, the industry estimated it would have to recruit over a million workers within a year to meet the military and commercial needs of the country.46 The demand for shipyard workers was such that agriculture officials anticipated a farm labor shortage.

  The navy began awarding what would become their famous “E” flags to civilian industries—and not just shipbuilding—denoting their “Excellent” work. Workers and management alike took real pride in flying these flags at the front of their plants.47 The growing patriotism in America was such that, at the Hatfield Wire and Cable Company in New Jersey, during the morning Pledge of Allegiance, two of the 350 employees refused to salute Old Glory. Three hundred and forty-eight employees went on strike as a result and said that, unless the two were fired, they would not go to work. The two (who cited religious stipulations) were dismissed.48

  Sunday also found 80 percent of General Electric employees at their posts, working yet another full day. The employees of the big corporation had already voted to work a six-day-week but here they were, on the seventh day, working hard in Schenectady, Bridgeport, Philadelphia, and dozens of other locations around the nation. The company employed 125,000 workers.49

  The war industry continued to be dangerous for civilians and would be, throughout the years. At a plant in New Jersey, an explosion “blew an employee to bits” and injured forty others. The FBI and the navy opened an investigation to see if sabotage had been the cause of the blast.50

  After a call for donors, the Red Cross was awash in the blood of American civilians. Local chapters were overrun with so many people walking in, they were asked to call ahead and make an appointment.51

  America of 1941 was all slang, all the time. In the patois of the era, Americans had not “washed out” nor had they made a “hash” of things. Carl Sandberg once famously said, “Slang is language that takes off its coat, spits on its hands, and gets to work.”52 Coffee was “Joe”; and breakfast, lunch, and dinner were “three squares.” Sailors were “swabs” and “gobs” and soldiers were “dogfaces” and marines were “jarheads.” “When one soldier tells another ‘our bean-gun grub was shrapnel, cream on a shingle, and ink with side arms,’ he’s merely saying the meal from the rolling field kitchen included baked beans, creamed beef on toast and coffee with cream and sugar.”53 An unknown or pushy girl was “sister.”

  Among civilians, “patch my pantywaist” meant being amazed, and “hoytoytoy” was a good time. “Futzing around” was wasting time, and “dig me?” was do you understand? A “yum yum type” was a good looking individual, and “shove in your clutch” meant get going.54 A “G.I.” of course was slang for “government issue.” Later, as the massive war effort generated its inevitable moments of chaos and confusion, harsher slang would emerge that had currency for many years, such as SNAFU (Situation Normal, All F—ed Up).

  Many G.I.’s were going to get their Christmas furloughs after all. For those who were not released, the individual bases
and the local USOs would do their best to ensure the young men a modicum of a Merry Christmas: after all, they were expecting packages from home, many of those packages containing cartons of cigarettes.

  Cigarettes of every style, brand, and packaging were available to every civilian and G.I. in America. The refrain, “Smoke ’ em’ if you’ve got ’em” became an unofficial military slogan, as superior officers would bark this refrain to enlistees when they went on break. Because cigarettes were included in rations and readily available in military PX commissaries, the federal government all but recommended, encouraged, and endorsed cigarette smoking by men and women in the military. One brand with their own pitch was “Juleps,” which contained a “hint of miracle-mint.”

  Advertising encouraged “chain smoking” of Juleps for those who thought they smoked too much of another brand. They were also recommended for “the boys at camp.” Spud cigarettes also billed themselves as good for a sore throat. So did Regent cigarettes.55 And Philip Morris.

  There was never a general outbreak of violence against Japanese Americans, Italian Americans, and German Americans, but the Japanese Americans living loyally in the United States had more to fear and thus more to lose than the others for obvious reasons. There were the occasional stories such as the Japanese man in California who showed up dead in a canal in his car, either because of an accident or foul play.56 Still, U.S. Attorney General Francis Biddle, concerned that the civilian American population would take out their ire on the wrong people, issued an important statement on the matter: “The United States is now at war. Every American will share in the task of defending our country. It is essential that we keep our heads, keep our tempers—above all, that we keep clearly in mind what we are defending. The enemy has attacked more than the soil of America. He has attacked our institutions, our freedoms, the principles on which this nation was founded and has grown to greatness. It therefore behooves us to guard these principles most zealously at home.57