Richard L. "Swede" Artley US Navy USS Oklahoma |
Trapped in the belly of the USS Oklahoma. Richard "Swede" Artley didn't see the attack on Pearl Harbor. "I just heard one hell of a bang," recalls Artley. "That was the first torpedo hitting the ship." He figures seven to 10 torpedoes hit the battleship in the early morning hours of December 7, 1941, as Japanese submarines and planes attacked the United States' Pacific Fleet. "The old gal turned over 150 degrees in 15 minutes." Artley spent the next 36 hours in a compartment filling with water. "I prayed a lot, cussed a lot and slept some." He's one of 32 survivors cut out of the massive ship's hull in the days following the Sunday morning attack. By the time rescuers got to him Monday at 6 p.m., the water filled 98 percent of the compartment. Artley figures if they hadn't gotten to him when they did, he would have been dead within another 15 minutes. His 21-year-old brother Daryle, who was also aboard the Oklahoma wasn't as lucky. He was among the 429 men on the ship who died in the attack. Eight American battleships and 13 other naval vessels were sunk or badly damaged, almost 200 American aircraft were destroyed and approximately 3,000 naval and military personnel were killed or wounded in the historic attack. As folks pause to reflect on those events, Artley's vivid recollections surface, just as they do everyday. "I don't dwell on it, but a day hasn't passed since December 7, 1941, that I haven't thought about it." Artley's stint in the Navy began when he was 18 and fresh out of Woodland High School in western Washington. He spent the first 14 years of his life in Nebraska. Then his family moved to Woodland, a small town near Vancouver. "In 1940, tuition at the University of Washington was something like $300 and that was almost impossible. My brother was in the Navy, so I joined too." Artley arrived in Hawaii in December 1940. "My brother met me at the gangway. He had it all set up for me. I immediately joined the N Division which has to do with navigation. We spent the next year in and out of Pearl doing nothing except burning up fuel. I polished a lot of brass and stood a lot of watches on the quarterdeck." On December 7, Artley had eaten his breakfast and returned to his living quarters. "After the first torpedo hit, everybody went to their battle stations. The ship turned over and water began pouring through a fresh air duct about 36 inches wide." The lights were on for about 10 minutes before it went dark. "You can't imagine how black it was," Artley says. One guy had a flashlight that lasted a few hours. A dumbbell flew across the room and caught Artley in the knee. "We tried to stop the water coming through that vent. We pushed a mattress against it, opened lockers and found anything we could to keep the water out." Artley's living quarters were located in the very bottom of the Oklahoma. The compartment was 40 feet long and 35 feet wide. The ceiling was about 15 feet high. The trapped men heard knocking and pounding as the rescue mission began. Two men were smothered by fumes from the cutting torch, Artley says. "They suffocated from smoke coming from the ship's insulation. You hear about chipping hammers being used in the rescue, but that's not a fact. They used drills and made holes until they finally got through. All these places were lined with blankets because they knew we'd be excited and scrambling to get out." "Men lined up and passed us through the compartments. The blankets protected us. The jagged edges of the holes were like razors. Without them, we would have cut ourselves to pieces getting out." The first thing Artley did when he emerged was ask about his brother. No one he asked knew where he was. Artley didn't learn of his brother's death until his parents told him. "All my mother got was a telegram. They didn't even send his remains home." His battle station was in the combat information center. To this day, I have no idea why he didn't make it out" After emerging from the overturned battleship, the 32 survivors were taken to a hospital ship called the Solace. In a room where the only piece of furniture was a gray steel desk and officer asked the men if anyone was hurt. "I told him I had a bad cut on my knee. Then he asked us if we'd like to have a drink. That just about floored us. He opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out one little water glass and a bottle of whiskey. We lined up and each took a stiff drink out of the same glass." One man said, "Thanks, but I don't drink," and the next one in line piped up and said, "By God, I do. I'll take his too." A few years ago, Artley saw a news item about a deer jumping through the window of a high school somewhere in the United States. Six psychologists were called in to counsel the youngsters because of their "traumatic experience." "All I got after Pearl Harbor was a shot of whiskey and a damn poor meal." Artley didn't talk about Pearl Harbor for years, and he hasn't seen Hollywood's latest movie version of the attack, but he says the excepts look stupid. After he was discharged from the Navy, he settled in Vancouver, married his high school sweetheart Norma and worked for 35 years as a superintendent at the Port of Portland. When he retired in 1984, the couple sold their house, bought a fifth-wheeler and hit the open road for several years. They settled in Lewiston four years ago to be near their son, Dick and his wife Jennifer, who live in Grangeville. He says the memorial services commemorating Pearl Harbor featured more politicians than survivors as their numbers begin to dwindle. "Nine of us who went to school together were out at Pearl that day. Five of the nine were killed December 7. Now, I'm the only one left." But, Artley plans to be around for the 70th anniversary too. "I don't know if I'll make it or not, but I'm sure going to give it a try." |
Information provided by Richard Artley. |
Richard and Daryle Artley served aboard the USS Oklahoma. Richard survived, but Daryle did not. |
