Oahu, Hawai’i
The USS Arizona Memorial
Diana was nervous. She wasn’t sure why. There was certainly nothing to fear standing in line outside the visitor center at Pearl Harbor. No one else seemed nervous or ill at ease. Trixie was shifting from one foot to the other, her eyes moving easily over the crowd, taking in everything within view. Tessa had her face turned to the sun, her body swaying slightly to music only she heard. Andrew Belden and Margery Trask chatted quietly, their heads bent over the brochure for the memorial tour. Even Brian seemed to have allowed himself to relax. He stood easily, one arm draped over Honey’s shoulders as they waited patiently for the doors to open and the line to move.
Maybe it was because none of them had relatives resting below the surface of the water.
Her grandfather’s brother and cousin had died in the attack on Pearl Harbor--both of them on the Arizona. Folded neatly at the bottom of her small knit purse was a letter from her grandfather. When Jarrett Lynch had heard that his oldest granddaughter would be traveling to Oahu and visiting the memorial, he had composed a letter for her to take along. It was addressed to his older brother, Jay, and his cousin Willie, the 19 and 20 year olds who had lost their lives on that early December morning. Jarrett Lynch had been fifteen when his brother and cousin had left Texas for the Navy, sixteen when he had learned they would not be returning. Six months later, he had run off, forging his mother’s signature on his enlistment papers and heading out into the Sea of Japan on a U.S. destroyer.
Diana smiled to herself. If Grandpa Lynch’s destroyer hadn’t been torpedoed, he might never found himself on leave in New York City. If Jarrett Lynch hadn’t wandered into the USO dance club, he might never have met Lily O’Donnell, the woman he married four days before his leave was up.
“What are you smiling at, Di?” asked Tessa. “You look all far away and dreamy.”
“My grandparents, believe it or not.” Diana sighed happily. “They met and got married in less than five weeks.”
“Wow. That’s fast!”
“I know.” Di closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “He was a sailor on leave. She was a USO volunteer. They saw each other across a crowded dance floor and fell in love. It was just like a movie. They’ve been married forty-two years, and they’re just as much in love now as they were then.”
“That is really a great story,” Tessa said, as the doors to the visitor center opened and the line began to move. “I’d love to hear the whole thing.”
“I can tell you later,” Di agreed eagerly. “It’s tragic and romantic and all of that stuff. I just didn’t want to bore you with it.”
“I don’t find history boring at all,” Tessa told her. “Especially when it involves someone or something I know. Like this.” She waved her hand around at the grounds as they moved another few feet. “If the Japanese hadn’t bombed Pearl, I might not be here.”
“Why not?”
“Because my grandma’s first husband died here. He was Uncle Kal’s father. If he hadn’t died, then my grandfather and my grandmother might never have met.”
“That’s such a coincidence,” Diana looked at her friend with wide eyes. “My grandpa’s brother and cousin died on the Arizona. That’s what made Grandpa run off and join the Navy. If he hadn’t done that, he would never have met my grandmother.”
“Fate is funny,” Tessa said. “I didn’t realize you had someone here. That will make the trip even more special, more... intense.”
“Intense?” Trixie interrupted. “Why is this so intense?”
“I’m not sure intense is the right word.” Tessa’s brow creased. “It’s just kind of eerie and solemn and... I don’t know...”
Brian and Honey moved a few steps closer. “I was thinking that it must be sort of like going to Gettysburg,” he said, his dark eyes solemn. “We went there my junior year in high school. The battlefield and everything there is just like you said. Eerie and sad and a little intense. Indescribable, really, unless you’ve experienced it yourself.”
“That’s it exactly!” Tessa clasped her hands together. “You have to experience it.” She turned around. “Which you’re going to do soon, because here we are.”
Sure enough, they had reached the entryway, and the docent was handing out tickets. Each of them took a ticket with the time stamped on it and stepped inside. With a little over four hours before their tour time, the Bob-Whites and their chaperones toured the USS Arizona Museum, wandering through the exhibits, gazing at the photographs and memorabilia, and reading with due solemnity, the stories that graced the walls.
With plenty of time to spare, they journeyed across the park that housed the recently opened Bowfin exhibit. Tessa, in particular, was excited to tour the vintage submarine. “This wasn’t open to the public the last time I was here,” she explained. “We still have three hours before we need to be back. Do you think that’s enough time to take the tour and visit the submarine museum?”
“I’d like to see the inside a real World War II submarine,” Brian added his opinion. “Just think how jealous Mart will be.”
`Diana giggled. “Speaking of Mart, or rather speaking like Mart, maybe we can do the submarine stuff and then grab some lunch before we head out to the memorial. My stomach is still in a different time zone.”
“Mine, too,” Trixie sympathized, rubbing her stomach. “I saw a hot dog stand over by the Submarine Museum, and the sign said they had fruit smoothies. Those would be quick.”
“Sounds perfectly perfect to me,” Honey said, turning to Miss Trask. “What do you think, Miss Trask? Mr. Belden?”
Miss Trask smiled. “I think you have the right idea. I’m always in favor of getting the most historical information possible.”
“I agree,” Andrew added. “I’ve been looking forward to this part of the trip. My father fought in the war, and he was stationed here for a while, as we all know.” He reached out and tousled Tessa’s hair. “He never spoke much about his time in the Navy, so this is really enlightening for me. Let’s go!”
And so they went. Entering the Bowfin, each tourist was given a headset and instructed as to how to tune into the different information stations scattered along the three hundred eleven foot submersible. Brian, especially, was amazed by how small and tightly packed the craft was. “Wow,” he breathed, as he once again ducked his six-foot-two inch frame to avoid smacking it on the bulkhead. “I guess only short guys get to be submariners.”
Andrew laughed at his nephew’s comment, ducking himself to get through a doorway. “Skinny, too. Can you imagine having anywhere from seventy to eighty men packed in here? They’d have to be small.”
“Good things come in small packages,” quipped Trixie, as she slid easily through the opening. “And these sailors were good. I was listening at the last station, and it said that the Bowfin was nicknamed the Pearl Harbor Avenger because she sank forty-four enemy ships. That’s pretty impressive for a bunch of skinny, short guys.”
“It is impressive,” Miss Trask agreed soberly. “The placard on the beach said that fifty-two submarines and over three thousand submariners were lost during the war. That puts a whole new perspective on the Bowfin’s accomplishments.”
They had reached the torpedo bay. Diana shuddered, pointing to the bunks lining the wall. “I wouldn’t want to be the guy who had to sleep with the bombs.”
“That would be pretty intense,” Brian agreed, gently pulling Honey closer to him. As they left the ship and headed toward the museum, he asked, “Is something wrong? You’re awfully quiet.”
“I was just thinking how awful it would be to be so far away from home, with people trying to kill you before you could kill them,” she mused, her hazel eyes clouded. “Most of the men serving were your age or just a little older.”
“They were all serving their country,” Brian reminded her. “A good portion of them were volunteers.”
“But volunteering because you know it’s the right thing to do, and the reality of what you’re doing can be very different,” Honey argued. “Imagine volunteering to defend your country, and then finding yourself packed like sardines in a tin can, sleeping with torpedoes, and living underwater -- where if you take a torpedo, you don’t stand much chance of making it to the surface.” She shivered. “You heard Miss Trask. More than three thousand men died in submarines. What a horrible way to die!”
Brian pulled her close, resting his cheek against the top of her head. “I can’t imagine that any kind of dying is fun -- especially during war. That’s why we have memorials and museums. So that we don’t forget the sacrifices.” He kissed her forehead. “Do you want to pass on the Arizona? I’ll stay behind if you’d like to skip it.”
Honey smiled at him, her face shining in the sunlight. “That is so sweet of you, Brian, but no. I want to go. We’ve come this far, and I almost feel like I owe it to Diana’s great-uncle. It’s probably going to make me sad, but that makes me happy, too. Because I’ll be remembering, like you said, and that’s a good thing. Do you know what I mean?”
“I think so,” Brian said with a chuckle. “Although I’m not sure what you said, but I definitely get what you mean.” He released her, reaching instead for her hand, and they followed the rest of the group into the museum.
The Submarine Museum was full of models, insignias, and stories. They all enjoyed wandering through the different phases of submarine history, beginning with the first attempts at submersible warfare way back during the Revolutionary War, and moving through to the modern day nuclear submarines. By the time they exited the 10,000 square foot building, they were more than ready for hot dogs, chips and fruit smoothies.
Discarding their empty smoothie cups in the trashcan outside, they reentered the visitor’s center and headed for the theatre. Once inside, they watched a documentary showing and describing the attack that broke the peaceful dawn on Sunday, December 7, 1941 and catapulted the United States into war. When the film ended, the tourists were ushered outside and onto a Navy shuttle, piloted by a female ensign in a bright white uniform.
The shuttle boat ride was quiet. It was as if every passenger was under the spell of the memorial -- even the two small children in the group sat noiselessly on their mothers’ laps, wide eyed and silent. When the boat docked, another sailor hastened to help the passengers disembark.
They didn’t speak. Walking softly, almost on tiptoe, Diana moved toward the shrine, pausing to peer over the side of the bridge-like structure to gaze on the wreckage below. Before her eyes, a series of small bubbles rose up, breaking the surface of the water, almost as if someone below were breathing. She stepped back with a gasp, and Tessa took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
“It’s oil,” she explained in a whisper. “Forty-four years, and the boat still leaks. Some people call it the Arizona’s Tears. It’s a little spooky though, isn’t it?”
“I’ll say,” Diana whispered back, a nervous giggle managing to escape. “It’s like someone is down there...”
“…breathing,” Tessa finished the grim thought. “There are nearly twelve hundred someones down there, but I’m pretty sure none of them are breathing. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Diana swallowed hard, blinking back a sudden and unexpected wave of tears. “It’s just as you said. Intense.” She took a deep breath. “Where is the wall with the names?”
“Through there.” Tessa gestured with her hand. “The shrine room. It’s beautiful and sad with all the names. Come on.” Diana clasped her friend’s hand and let Tessa lead her toward the shrine.
It was silent, cool and white. Moving as if drawn by a magnet, Diana approached the velvet rope surrounding the marble wall, her eyes scanning the names, running up and down the alphabet until she found the two she sought. Eight columns in they seemed to glow before her.
LYNCH, James Robert, Jr.
LYNCH, William Joseph, Jr.
“There they are,” she breathed, her slender finger trembling as she pointed. “Great-Uncle Jay, and Grandpa’s cousin, Willie. They’re really here.”
“Did you doubt it?” Tessa asked in a voice lowered in deference to the place in which she stood.
“No. I knew it was true,” Diana whispered back. “But being here, seeing their names, it just makes the stories Grandpa tells so very real.” Her violet eyes welled with tears. “Jay and Willie were more than just two Texas kids in those stories. They’re real boys, who went to war and never came home. I wonder...” She choked up a little. “I wonder if they were scared?”
“I don’t know,” Tessa answered gently. “I don’t think anyone could know, really. I hope not. I hope it was quick and they never knew.” She wrapped her arms around Diana’s shoulders. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yes.” Di squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’ll be fine. I just need to read Grandpa’s letter.” She slipped her hand into her purse, digging for the envelope that had traveled across the continental United States and the Pacific to the shores of the youngest state.
“I’ll wait out there with the others,” Tessa said. “You come out when you’re ready.” She moved away quietly, joining her cousins at the overlook, and leaving Diana to her task.
Author’s Notes
Thank you very much to my lovely editors Susansuth, Dianafan, and WendyM for keeping me on the straight and narrow.
Pearl Harbor was an amazing experience for me and my family. We toured the Memorial, the Bowfin and the Submarine Museum. I suggest if for anyone with a love of history. Truly, I do.
