Like most young people of his time, Myers was only remotely aware of the political and military maneuvering that had been going on in the world around him, particularly in Asia. They’d been taught in school about the great earthquake that struck Japan in September of 1923 and how it had destroyed Tokyo, Yokohama, and surrounding areas. They’d read about the nearly one hundred forty thousand people who had fallen victim to the quake, and about the aid that had flowed to the distraught population from the U.S. and Europe. And he’d heard rumblings about Japan attacking neighboring countries. But the truth of it was he had been too busy just surviving to pay much attention to what a tiny country half a world away was doing.
Japan, on the other hand, was well aware of what was occurring in the United States and elsewhere. The relief sent for earthquake victims assuaged a building tension between East and West, but only briefly. As worldwide depression spread in the late 1920s, Japanese industry was moribund, and the country had made no preparations for such a catastrophe. To keep herself functioning, Japan needed natural resources beyond what was available on the Home Islands. In addition, an endemic distrust of all things Western was creeping throughout the Japanese government and military. They were of a single mind: Japan had to be strong. Japan had to be ready for whatever may come.
The Chinese state of Manchuria possessed the resources Japan needed. It was readily accessible through Korea, which was already a part of the Japanese Empire. Manchuria was in Japanese hands by 1931, and a pattern of aggression and isolation began. In retaliation for the loss of Manchuria, China began a boycott of all Japanese goods in 1932. In turn, Japan moved into Shanghai, inciting riots before withdrawing.
In March of 1933, Japan left the League of Nations. And in 1937, their relationship having festered for decades, China and Japan went to war. Japan did not wish to be drawn into a long conflict, wanting to guard her military resources in the event of an even larger offensive from a more imposing enemy. For her part, China was in no condition to effectively resist the well-trained Japanese armies and was forced to withdraw her troops, although she never surrendered. To celebrate, the victorious Japanese general allowed his troops to slaughter a quarter-million innocent citizens in Nanking. The horrified world had no way of knowing this was only a portent of things to come.
By 1938, in spite of all efforts on the part of the United States to establish at least the probability of world peace, President Franklin Roosevelt recommended to Congress a twenty-percent increase in American naval strength. Congress authorized the increase posthaste.
In turn, the Navy medical department saw an increase in the volume and variety of its work. The usage of medical supplies, both afloat and in hospitals, was studied, and an allowance list of supplies and equipment that would be needed in a national emergency was prepared. In short, plans were made to provide the necessary medical support for the Navy in the event of war.
War did indeed break out in Europe on September 3, 1939, making the escalation of naval medical supplies and personnel a matter of even greater urgency. While the position of the United States was not yet clearly established, it was apparent that the war would affect the country to some degree. When the war started in Europe, the U.S. Navy had 4,267 hospital corpsmen. Estel Myers was one of them.
After five months of training and finishing in the top third of his class, Myers took the corpsman’s pledge.
“I solemnly pledge myself before God and these witnesses to practice safely all of my duties as a member of the hospital corps.
“I hold the care of the sick and the injured to be a privilege and a sacred trust and will assist the medical officer with loyalty and honesty. I will not knowingly permit harm to come to any patient.
“I will not partake or administer any unauthorized medication. I will hold all personal matters pertaining to the private lives of the patients in strict confidence. I dedicate my heart, mind, and strength to the work before me. I shall do all within my power to show in myself an example of all that is good and honorable throughout my naval career, so help me God.”
A naval corpsman was trained to perform a wide range of services. He was a first aid man, a nurse, and a sanitarian. He assisted physicians and surgeons and assisted in the administration of the station’s medical organization. And when no medical officer was available for supervision, he acted in the place of the medical officer.
Myers felt more than adequately prepared for his new career in the hospital corps. And so it was that on April 3, 1941, Hospital Apprentice First Class Estel Myers departed the U.S. Naval Station, Treasure Island, California. The skiff taking him across Oakland Bay headed for Pier 7. Once there, he would board the USS Henderson, and the next chapter of his life would begin.
“Welcome to the Hilton Hotel, gentlemen, and I use the term ‘gentlemen’ loosely.” Six hundred men had boarded the Henderson with Myers and were now divided into groups of one hundred. Each group was assigned to a master at arms, and the one Myers’ group followed had the name Hilton stitched on his uniform shirt. Hilton had led them into the ship’s berthing quarters and was now giving orders.
“Here’s how this works.” Hilton pointed to the bunk beds surrounding them, twenty rows of beds stacked five high. “You see those bunks? Each and every one of you gets your very own. No pushing, no shoving. There’s a hundred bunks and a hundred of you. It works out real purty,” he told them with a sarcastic drawl.
“You see those lockers?” Hilton continued, pointing. “And those? And those? Well, there’s one of those for each of you, too. Stow your gear in ’em, except for peacoats. Those’ll go in other lockers topside. Pinups and photographs on the inside only. Nothin’ on the outside. Pictures make me homesick. When I get homesick, I get agitated, and then it ain’t fun around here. We don’t want that now, do we?”
Hilton looked around. No one said a word. “You got thirty minutes to get yourselves squared away. Report topside with your peacoats at sixteen hundred hours.” Throwing his chest out and turning smartly on his heel, the master at arms strode out.
Myers looked around at the unfamiliar faces. Maybe he’d seen a few before back in Norfolk at Hospital Corps School or at the Naval Hospital in Philadelphia. Or maybe they just looked like faces from home.
Navy policy required that everyone serve a year of shore duty performing their chosen job before being assigned to a ship. Sea duty was what they’d all signed up for, but thus far all they knew was that they’d get their shore duty assignment sometime while aboard this ship. A low hum of voices filled the berthing quarters, and the air was electric with anticipation.
Men were already moving toward the rows of bunks, so Myers did the same. He knew he didn’t want a top one. It was hot enough where he was standing—the top bunk would be stifling. But for some reason, a bottom bunk wasn’t appealing, either: if for some reason the ship took on water, Myers figured it would be better to be farther above the floor. So he threw his blanket and peacoat on the second bunk up and hauled his seabag over toward the lockers.
“You ever see anything like this?” a voice to his right asked him.
“Nope,” Myers answered. “Reminds me of the bakery back home. The bunks look like the ovens, and we’re the bread.”
“Is that so? Where’d you say home was?” the stranger asked.
“I didn’t. But it’s Kentucky.”
“No kidding! Damn, I always wanted to meet a genuine Kentucky Colonel.” A seaman first class stuck out his hand. “Name’s Rollo T. Brown. But everybody calls me Browny.”
“Hello, Browny. Estel Myers.” Myers shook the hand Browny proffered. “Where do you call home?”
“The Windy City.”
“No kidding? I always wanted to meet a genuine gangster!”
Browny chuckled. “Doc, the closest I ever got to a gangster was in the movie theater. You don’t mind if I call you Doc, do ya? It fits, you being a corpsman and all.” Browny pointed to the red cross on Myers’ shirt.
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“Doc” had a nice ring to it. Myers smiled. “Nope.” Their seabags were empty by this time, and Myers continued. “Say, there’s a bunk over there next to mine, third row, second one up. Why don’t you grab it?”
“Done.” Browny walked over to the bunk in question and claimed it with his blanket.
After settling in, the men arrived topside to find the late afternoon air clean and fresh. There was just enough of a breeze to gently ripple the flags on the masts above them. Hilton’s men fell in, along with the other five units and their respective masters at arms. Below their feet, the Henderson’s bathtub-shaped hull bobbed gently as the ship’s commander stood on a small deck above to address them.
“Men, your country thanks you for the service you’re about to give. If we do indeed see action, chances are the man standing next to you won’t be coming home. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the way war is. Keep your eyes open and your heads up. Good luck.”
Myers had always been self-assured, never one to worry about things beyond his control. Paying attention to what was in front of you had always worked for him in the past, and he saw no reason to change now. He looked sideways at each of the men next to him. There was no question in his mind that he would survive any action he saw. But it was a damn shame those other guys weren’t going to make it. At 1700 hours, the Henderson weighed anchor. Two hours later, the six hundred men saw the last slice of American soil disappear, along with the evening sun, below the horizon.
Chow that first night wasn’t the best, but Myers had had worse. The main course was pork chops, a little dry but otherwise edible. Served with the chops were canned corn and a big helping of navy beans in some kind of thick liquid. When the beans and the pork chops touched, the liquid took on a meat flavor, making it almost like gravy. Dessert was canned peaches and cookies. It wasn’t exactly like his mother’s cooking, but the meal was filling if not entirely satisfying.
After chow, games of pinochle and acey-deucey sprang up wherever there was enough room for a handful of men to gather. The men talked about sweethearts left behind, and Myers shared stories about the girl he planned to make his wife when he returned from duty.
Lights-out was ordered at 2100 hours, and by 2400 hours the ship had put about a hundred miles behind her. At about that point the Pacific Ocean is affected by a variety of currents, all of which combine to make for sizable waves even in relatively calm conditions. The waves caused any ship to pitch and roll considerably but the Henderson reacted really badly. She had been built to carry cargo, the idea being that when full to capacity, her rounded hull could sink lower in the water. But carrying men instead of cargo made her far too light, and she bobbed up and down in the water like a bottle.
This was nothing out of the ordinary to the ship’s crew. But it was startling to the men in their bunks, most of whom were novice sailors. At one point or another that first night, nearly all of them stumbled from the berthing quarters to the head, where they lost their evening chow. By morning the urinals, concave stainless steel troughs, were full to the brim, and each time the ship rolled the urinals’ contents sloshed over the side.
The few men who had been able to control themselves during the night found the slop at reveille causing some of them to succumb as well. Myers had managed not to get sick, and although Browny had been ill, he’d at least made it to the head. The fellow on the other side of Myers did not fare as well. He had gotten sick as soon as the waves started, and by morning he was feeling so poorly he wasn’t even making an effort to get out of his bunk. Instead, he lay there like a human geyser.
Breakfast was served at 0700 hours. About half the men went, including Myers and Browny. The latter was not at all enthusiastic about food.
“What are we having?”
“Looks like hot prunes, some kind of dry cereal, and milk,” Myers answered.
The two men wove through the tables until they found places and sat down, looking morosely at the food in front of them. Before they had taken a bite, a man across the table made a funny gurgling sound and bent over. The sounds of his retching beneath the table set Browny off again. By this time, Myers was no longer able to control himself, either. As he ran out of the mess to heave over the ship’s railing, he seriously wondered if joining the Navy hadn’t been a mistake.
Several of the ship’s crew were heard to suggest that if the men ate bread, their stomachs would settle. This suggestion spread, and after a lousy day or two, most of the men found their sea legs.
The crossing seemed to make time crawl; the only activity that generated interest was eating. On days when a man was not on work detail and didn’t have to report somewhere, his main job became standing in the slow-moving chow lines. He finished breakfast and washed out his dishes, then got back in line to wait for lunch. He’d repeat the procedure to wait for dinner.
The Henderson was scheduled to make a stop in Hawaii for refueling and to offload some of the troops. The men’s orders were to be given out prior to that, and the most logical time was in the morning right after muster. It took three days and three musters to make assignments to all six hundred men. Browny’s orders were to report to Pearl Harbor Ship Yard, 14th Naval District, Honolulu, Hawaii. Myers would stay on the Henderson until she arrived in Shanghai, China. The Navy had joined forces with the 4th Marines to protect American interests in the region, and Myers was assigned to hospital duty there.
“Ya know what the funny thing is?” Myers and Browny were lying in their bunks the day before they were scheduled to arrive at Pearl Harbor. Browny took a deep drag on a smoke and continued. “The funny thing is that I joined the Navy ’cause there weren’t any other jobs in Chicago. Those poor suckers back home will be sweeping sidewalks and shoveling snow for a buck a day while I’m basking in sunshine surrounded by hula girls.”
Myers chuckled. “You lucky dog. You probably won’t even see a Jap.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind the chance to take a shot at one or two. And you, you’ll be living it up in the Paris of the Orient. I heard about Shanghai and all the cheap bars and whorehouses. And even if the Navy does see some action in China, our Uncle Sam is so much tougher than those little bastards, we’ll overrun ’em. There won’t be any guys hurt bad. You’re gonna spend your days treating hangnails and hangovers. Say, Doc, how much liberty you got in Honolulu before you have to shove off?”
“I dunno. Hilton said we’d get at least one day.”
“Well, since we don’t know when we’ll get our next liberties, what d’ya say we really paint the town red. We’ll hit all the hot spots, drink ourselves into a stupor, and wake up with beautiful women lying next to us.”
“The drinking sounds swell,” Myers answered. “But I’m afraid you’ll have Hawaii’s beautiful women all to yourself. When I get home, I plan on marrying that girl I left behind. I promised I’d be faithful, and I mean to keep that promise.”
Browny gave him a playful punch in his shoulder. “Myers, you are such a sap.”
Myers had a foggy recollection of the Hawaiian Islands being mentioned in school, but he’d learned a lot more after he’d joined the Navy. In fact, he’d learned about all the groups of speck-like islands in the Pacific: the Philippines, the Marshalls, the Solomons, and the Marianas. Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima. So many places with names no one in his hometown had ever heard of. He wasn’t sure what to expect, and nothing would have prepared him for what he saw.
Honolulu looked like a movie set to a man who, prior to joining the Navy, had never even been out of Kentucky. No matter which direction he looked, palm trees swayed seductively, and caramel-skinned people in colorful clothing smiled happily. The soft breeze carried with it a sweet odor, a combination of the sea and the blossoms dancing in every garden. Estel Myers didn’t have a terribly concrete image of heaven, but he was relatively certain Hawaii might be close.
But Hawaii was much more than a beautiful setting. Pearl Harbor, which lay to the west of Honolulu, was h
ome base for the United States Pacific Fleet. When all the warships were in port, they numbered over ninety. In addition, nearly four hundred aircraft were located at the three airfields nearest the harbor.
Browny had reported to his new commanding officer as soon as they had disembarked. He stowed his gear and was told that the first twenty-four hours in Hawaii were his own. He collected Myers from a bar around the corner from the Navy Yard, and together they began to explore the city.
“I can’t believe this place is part of the United States. How come I never heard about it? I would have come over here even without the help of the United States Navy!” Browny was throwing back his third drink in a bar filled with American servicemen and pretty women adorned with flowers.
“Sure looks like you’re in the gravy here.” Estel was working on his third drink, too.
“Doc, can you imagine what it would have been like if we’d decided to join the Army and then the U.S. declared war on Germany? We’d be up to our asses in mud and snow most of the year. Even if there is a war over here, how bad can it be? This is paradise!”
The Henderson was scheduled to continue her journey to China the next day, leaving at 0800 hours. Myers was back aboard the ship in plenty of time, although without having had much sleep. A man of his word, he’d left the pretty girls for Browny, spending his remaining hours in Hawaii talking with an old man he’d met in a bar. Together, they scoffed at the rumors that the Japanese assumed it was their divine right to rule all of the Pacific. How ridiculously bold of them! The likelihood of that ever happening was so minute, both men assured each other, that there was a greater chance of lightning striking the ships in Pearl Harbor.
Chapter Two
Pearl of the Orient
Myers and his elderly acquaintance might have considered a threat from Japan a lark, but the United States’ Office of Naval Intelligence did not. As early as the 1920s, they began to seriously study the ramifications of a possible transpacific war against Japan. U.S. Marine Corps Major Earl H. Ellis voiced his thoughts on the subject.
Belly of the Beast Page 2
