Whispers of a New Dawn (38 page)

Lockjaw’s voice was clear. “That’s the same group that did a strafing run on Wheeler as we were getting up. I recognize the numbers on two of them. Get one for me, will you?”

“Right after you, Lockjaw.”

Raven banked his P-36 and followed Lockjaw into a steep dive. Smoke suddenly streamed from the wings of the P-40 and Raven knew Lockjaw had opened fire with a long sustained burst. The Zeros swiftly split up, but not before one broke into bright blue flames and began to fall. Raven tracked it as the pilot struggled to control his burning plane, dropping down with the stricken fighter. It tumbled from the sky near Peterson’s airfield and blew up when it hit the grass.

“You scratched your Zero,” Raven announced.

“Good riddance. Heading to Pearl. You with me?”

A yellow Piper trailing smoke and oil careened wildly above the airstrip. Its pilot tried to land but a Zero swooped, spraying the Piper, the building below it, and a pair of jeeps that were driving up. The Piper crashed, skidding over the tarmac spewing sparks. It snapped in half. One part of the wing folded over, exposing the number eleven.

“Yo, Thunderbird. You with me?”

Raven felt completely empty. His mind was white. The Zero was pulling up and heading after him. He did not dodge or bank or roll. Feeling nothing but distance from everything that was taking place he put his nose down and went straight at the Japanese fighter. The machine guns housed in the engine cowling of the P-36 flamed as Raven fired. And fired. And fired. The canopy of the Zero shattered and red flames wrapped the front end of the plane. It exploded and the P-36 flew straight over the debris and began to climb.

“What was all that about?” asked Lockjaw.

“I got my Zero.”

“I see that. Do you think you have any ammo left?”

“I’ll ram the next one.”

“Easy, cowboy. Mind telling me what’s up?”

“He shot down Becky. She’s dead.”

Raven watched as Lockjaw dropped low over Peterson’s Air Service. The P-40 circled the runway and climbed, drawing level with Raven.

“Take it easy, Bird. A bunch of people came out of one of the jeeps. They’re at the Piper.”

“Did you see her?”

“Bird—”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Kalino was in that airplane.”

“She wasn’t going up for her lesson till oh-nine-hundred,” Lockjaw protested.

“They went up at seven, Lockjaw. Becky told me last night.”

“No, Bird, her lesson was scheduled for oh-nine-hundred hours.”

Raven opened up the throttle, still feeling removed from what was happening. “Let’s go to Pearl.”

The harbor was engulfed by smoke and flame. Flak ripped open a sky where Zeros circled like sharks. His eyes scanned Battleship Row and he saw that the
Arizona
had sunk and the
Oklahoma
had capsized. All the big ships were burning and Val dive bombers were attacking the
Pennsylvania
. The
Nevada
, streaming fire, was trying to leave the harbor for open sea. It was just about at Hospital Point, where the naval hospital was located, when Vals began to snarl around it like wasps.

“Going after the Vals bombing
Nevada
,” said Lockjaw.

“I’ll cover,” replied Raven. “Watch out for the flak from our boats.”

Lockjaw went into a dive. Immediately two Zeros swung down after him. He lit one Val like a match and it staggered out to sea pouring purple smoke. The Zeros got on Lockjaw’s tail and peppered him with machine-gun fire. But Raven got on theirs and sent long strings of tracers into both. They scattered, one banking left and climbing swiftly, the other accelerating and racing straight ahead. Raven went after him.

“Zeke on your tail! On your tail, Thunderbird!” It was Batman’s voice.

Raven felt his P-36 shake as tracers hit. “I’ll run straight.”

“He’ll catch you.”

“I’ll climb and do some rolls.”

“His plane is better at those tricks than yours.”

The P-36 took more hits.

“What do you want me to do, Batman? Just sit still and let him take me apart?”

A low whistling came over the radio. It was a tune Raven did not recognize. He never recognized it.

“Whistler! Where are you?”

“Right behind the Zero that’s right behind you. Hold steady now, please. Don’t blink or fidget.” The whistling began again.

“Whistler—”

“Steady, man, steady. Hold for the picture.”

A loud boom was followed by a Zero plummeting into the water of the harbor just off Raven’s left wing. He pulled up and could see Whistler behind him and Batman just above Whistler. Both were in their P-40s.

“What is that tune anyway?” Raven asked.

“Never tell. Family secret.”

“Thanks for the straight shooting.”

“My pleasure. Let’s get back to work. Lockjaw is still chasing Vals.”

Raven planted himself above and behind Lockjaw as swiftly as he could.
Nevada
had been rocked by explosions but not enough to sink her and block the channel. She took aim for Hospital Point and ran ashore. Vals were still falling on her like hawks. Lockjaw burst into the
midst of them, sending another limping away boiling with smoke. A huge explosion shattered a ship close to the
Nevada
. The vivid flash of light made Raven blink.

“What’s that? What’s that?” Batman’s voice.

“The Vals hit a destroyer,” Lockjaw said. “The fires must have ignited one of her magazines.”

Spider trails of smoke and flame arched over the stricken ship.

Radio crackle, and then, “Who’s out there? Batman? Whistler? Lockjaw? Bird? Who’s out there? This is Wheeler Air Base.”

“Lockjaw’s here. All the others are accounted for as well.”

“What’s your position?”

“We’re over Pearl.”

“Vals are hitting us from altitude. Can you make it back to Wheeler and help us out?”

“Will do. What about Wiz and Juggler and Shooter?”

“Confirm another P-40 and another P-36 got up. The P-36 was shot down.”

“Who’s down?” Batman’s voice. “Who’s down?”

“Taking a lot of bombs. Request you return to base.”

“On our way.” Lockjaw banked his plane to the north. “You guys with me?”

“We’re with you,” responded Raven. “Go.”

They passed over Peterson’s on their way back. At first Raven refused to look. But he couldn’t help himself. Becky’s Piper was burning and a plume of smoke reached up to his wingtips. The office was burning too. Both jeeps were gone. No one stood on the runway. There was no sign of life.

“You still with me, Thunderbird?” asked Lockjaw.

“Roger. I’m with you.”

“Let’s get some altitude and go after those Vals.”

Raven didn’t respond. He still felt locked away in a room watching the day’s events unfold through a narrow window. Why was there no rage? Why didn’t he cry? Why couldn’t he speak her name?

Dear God. What kind of man am I? My world has blown apart and I feel nothing
.

“Time check,” announced Lockjaw. “I’m at oh-nine-forty-five hours.”

“Time is oh-nine-forty-five hours, yes, sir,” replied Batman.

“Prepare to attack. Get some more height.”

“Gaining more height,” Batman said. “Whistler? Bird?”

“Gaining height,” responded Whistler.

“Bird?”

Raven checked his watch. “At altitude. Oh-nine-forty-six hours. Val bomber off my starboard wing. Attacking now.”

“Bird,” Batman cautioned. “Hold up until the rest of us are in position.”

Raven threw his fighter into a dive. “Confirm I am in position. Val bomber in my sights. Attacking now.”

T
HIRTY
-O
NE

C
ease fire! Cease fire!” Gunny waved his arms at both machine gunners. “You’re firing at American planes! Can’t you see the stars?”

The guns went silent.

He checked his watch. “Ten-ten hours. Maybe there won’t be another wave.”

“Or they’re fueling up and rearming.” A sailor squinted at the sky. “Getting ready to provide air cover for their army when it hits Waikiki.”

“In that case we’ll be in the thick of it here in Honolulu Harbor. So let’s preserve ammo.”

Harrison stepped out of the radio room behind the bridge.

Gunny looked up at him. “What’s up?”

“No more attacks. Not yet. They’re asking for help from all ships. Trying to pick up survivors.”

“That’s Pearl’s job.”

“Half their ships are burning or sunk, Gunny.”

Gunny looked at the smoke roiling up from Pearl Harbor. “Yeah. We could use the launch. But I don’t give the orders.”

Harrison went to the bridge. “Sir. I’d like permission to take the launch over to Pearl and help out.”

The second-in-command stared at him. “Help? Help with what?”

“Survivors, sir. There are still all kinds of men in the water.”

“It’s not that far to shore in a harbor, Harrison.”

“Some of them can’t swim, sir. They’re injured. They’re trapped in wreckage.”

“That’s the navy’s problem, Harrison.”

“We’re the Coast Guard, sir. We rescue people from the sea. It’s our duty.”

The second-in-command turned away and waved a hand. “Carry on, Harrison. If you want to get yourself killed, go ahead.”

“May I use the launch, sir?”

The officer hesitated. “All right. All right. You’ll probably want to take a couple of men.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Volunteers only. And no more than three.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Harrison saluted.

The officer returned the salute. “Good luck, Harrison. I admire your spirit.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Harrison came down the stairs to the deck. “I’m heading out. Anyone with me?”

Gunny grunted. “It’s a mess over there. If the Zeros and dive bombers come back you’ll be a sitting duck.”

“The navy has been a sitting duck all morning, Gunny.”

“So—”

Harrison’ temper flared. “So we’re the Coast Guard. We go into messes and pull people out of the messes. If they can’t swim we do their swimming for them. If they need a rope we make sure they get a rope and then we haul them on board. If they’re drowning we keep them from drowning. We save lives, Gunny. We’re the Coast Guard. That’s one of the ways we protect our country.”

Gunny looked at him and blew out a stream of air. “Maybe you should be running for president. Okay, I’m with you. Get the flags out of storage and rig one up. A big one. As big as we’ve got. I don’t want anyone wondering who we are as we come around Hospital Point.” He glanced around him. “Who else?”

A tall sailor with massive arms and huge shoulders stood up. “I’ll rig the flag, Gunny. And make sure we got all the fuel we need.”

“Yeah, I’ll join y’all. Gunny, Harrison.”

“Me too. I’m in.”

“I can only take three,” Harrison said. “Orders.”

Gunny smiled. “My ears are still ringing from the explosions. Did you say three or four? Four’ll do nicely.”

In ten minutes the launch was motoring out of Honolulu Harbor and heading west toward the black smoke and fires. They kept close to the coastline at starboard and went past a civilian airfield that had been strafed and bombed. Then they swung north and headed up the inlet into Pearl Harbor, the Stars and Stripes prominent on their stern.

“Now you’ll see something you’ve never seen before,” Gunny told them. “The dead and the dying. Men who have been shot and burned and drowned. Bear up. We’ll all lend a hand.” As they came into Pearl and the extent of the destruction hit them—ships blazing, ships listing crookedly, ships that had capsized, their hulls wet and naked to the sun—Gunny glanced around at the others. “A prayer for us all would be a good thing right now, Mr. Harrison.”

T
HIRTY
-T
WO

N
ate and Jude carried Flapjack into the Petersons’ home and placed him on the bed. Shirley arranged his hands so they were folded in his lap, smoothed back his hair, and kissed him on the cheek. Then she sat in a chair beside him, wiping her eyes with a Kleenex, gazing at his face. Lyyndaya knelt by her chair and hugged her.

“We loved him, Shirley.”

“I know. Twenty years…You knew him longer than I did.”

Ruth and Becky came in with a blanket and draped it over his body, covering the bullet wounds in his chest but leaving his face uncovered.

“Thank you.” Shirley looked up at Becky, her eyes coming back to the present. “You’ve been through a terrible ordeal too. Please feel free to clean yourself up while you’re here.”

“Maybe later.” Becky’s flight jacket was still on, the blood was still clotted at the cut on her arm, grease and oil still streaked and spattered her face. “I never saw what happened. One of the ground crew told me—told us—after Dad and Nate hauled me clear of the Piper. Flapjack was out on the runway helping with a plane when the Zeros came in. They sprayed the field with bullets. I was still trying to get back from the Ko’olau Range.”