HolcombeWilma

Wilma Jean Holcombe

A violent explosion shook me from sleep. Windows rattled in protest at so rude an awakening. I rolled over as far as my swollen stomach would permit, swallowed a wave of nausea and looked at the clock..7:55 AM. Another explosion jerked Joe into a sitting position on his side of the lumpy studio couch we shared.

"What was that?" he shouted.

"Maybe Fort De Russey's big guns?" I asked.

I snapped on our tiny radio as the house shook again with another explosion. An excited announcer was shrilling,

"All servicemen return to your stations immediately. Everyone else stay in your house. This is the real McCoy!"

"There goes my weekend leave," Joe grumbled. "Where's my new white uniform? Probably surprise inspection or something." He hurriedly dressed and donned his white sailor cap.

Are you really going back? Don't you care about our first baby coming?" I whimpered. "What if something goes wrong?"

Someone was beating on the doorJack, a neighbor ...

"C'mon Joe, Japan is attacking us and Pearl Harbor is on fire. They're coming in from a carrier. Hurry!"

For the first time in our year of marriage, Joe forgot I was there, ran down the sidewalk to the waiting car, jumped in and was gone. Tears ran down my cheeks and I gasped for breath. I felt the icy crawl of hysteria. Terror had gripped me as I thought of my approaching delivery and it was smothering me now. What was I to do? I couldn't take care of myself and I was tied to this thing that grew in my belly.

Commotion on our usually quiet street brought me back to reality. Truckloads of armed soldiers whizzed by. People clustered in groups on the street squinting at the sky. Specks in the sky were really enemy planes they said. Sporadic bursts of sound and smoke belched from the big coastal guns of nearby Fort De Russey. Our house was near the beach on one side of the crescent-shaped harbor. Across the bay, some fifteen miles away, lay Pearl Harbor. Near its entrance a ship was plainly aground and burningthe USS NEVADA someone told meJoe's ship! I could almost smell his flesh scorching in that burning oil. I ran blindly into the house, threw myself into bed, and drew the covers over my head to hide from all those horrible things. But I couldn't shut out that hateful voice on the bedside radio about people dying and being killed. "it is estimated the assault has almost completely annihilated our fighting force at Pearl Harbor Battleship Row was the ripest target. Among other damaged battleships, the ARIZONA has sunk with all her crew aboard after receiving five direct bomb hits!"

My seventeen-year-old cousin, Delbert Spencer, had recently been assigned to the NEVADA and had visited us several times. Was he, too, fathoms deep in that murky water? Was I to lose everyone I loved?

Somehow that dreadful day passed. Another sailor's wife came to tell me I mustn't stay therelandings might be made on our familiar beach. I just kept shaking my head and finally she went away. I no longer felt paniconly an extreme desire to keep busy, to do something....anything!

Next morning General Short proclaimed martial law and Honolulu geared itself for war. There were too few daylight hours to do everything necessary for a besieged city. The whole town must be completely black at night for even a small pinpoint of light could guide enemy bombers. Food conservation went into effect. No food would be coming in except for fighting forces with bare necessities for civilians. Barbed wire was strung along our own Waikiki Beach. I was issued a gas mask with instructions to carry it at all times except when asleep. People seemed drawn together by the common bonds of war. Strangers nodded and exchanged news. Any man in uniform was "aloha'd" for he might bring news from Pearl Harbor.

I was notified by the office of the 14th Naval District that I must immediately register for evacuation. When I went to the registration desk an officer gave me a sheaf of papers to fill out, glanced at my protruding stomach and said, "You'll go on the first medical convoy. Be packed and ready. You'll get a call one night and sail next morning early."

"But I'm not going to leave. I want to stay with my husband," I told him.

"I know how you feel but you have no choice. We've no time nor place to take care of wives and kids, especially with medical problems who can't work "

I won't register. I'm a civilian and I live here," I yelled

The officer looked at me speculatively and said, " This has been tried before and the Commander has a remedyhe'll just confine your husband to his ship and you'll never get to see him. Don't you want to help your husband? Then go back where you're safe and he won't have to worry about you."

With no respite, I grudgingly filled out the forms and went home wondering if I would ever see Joe again. The next night, just before mandated curfew, he came and I knew why I had refused to leave this househe might come back looking for me.

His white uniform was covered with oil, a leg ripped and a sleeve missing. Three days beard masked his chin and tired eyes looked out from it. There was something else there toosadness! This was not the same boy I had married but a man who folded me into his arms. Nothing else mattered now that I knew he was alive.

"Jeanie, I've been sick worrying about you. We heard the Japanese had landed over here and were bayoneting everyone. I'd have died if you and the baby had been hurt. I have to go right back. I was just sent in to pick up supplies for the crew.

As he looked silently out at the darkening city I knew he wanted to say something else..."Jeanie, I hate to tell youit's Delbert! He's gone! He was passing ammunition on a gun battery and the ready box he was standing by took a direct hit. He never knew what hit himmy friends, George, Ed, Billalmost the whole crew of the ARIZONAall gone!" Tears rolled soundlessly down his face and I sensed the terrible hurt in this man whom I had never seen cry before. I put my arms around him and held his head on my shoulder for the few precious minutes we had left. I felt a movement of the baby within me and felt a sudden intense desire to preserve that which was part of him and me! For the first time, I, who had always been so dependent on other people, was feeling responsibility for another human life. It was a strange, joyous feelingone I had never known before.

He gave me the number of Delbert's hastily prepared grave in Nuuanu Cemetery, no names, and only narrow wooden markers with a number. We kissed goodbye for perhaps the last time and he hastened down the darkening street.

Next day I plodded up the narrow winding street into the quiet recesses of Nuuanu cemetery. It was a visual shock to see the great gashes of raw earth among the flowering plumeria bushes. Graves were close together. When I slid to my knees beside A20, I almost sat on the grave next to it. There were no flowers nor any attempt to camouflage the unrelenting bleakness. I patted down some of the dirt clods like a blanket around Delbert. It was all I could think of to do for him.

I looked up as footsteps approached. It was an oriental girl. How could she? How could she come here when her people were the cause of all this death and destruction? She wore a loose kimono over her thickening body. She drew small containers of rice and fruit from her basket and placed them at the foot of the mound next to me. She looked up and her soft, sad, brown eyes met mine. Her glance fell to the flowerless grave beside me and she hesitantly held out a small bowl of rice.

"I prepared much food for my husband to carry him on his last journey. May I offer some to you so your loved one may also make the long journey in comfort?"

I looked at the serene face and tears stung my eyes. She had not wrapped herself in self-pity as I had done. She, who had lost so much, still had something left to share with me who had lost so much less. I placed her gift at Delbert's feet, smiled at her and quietly left her to commune with her husband.

That night I received my call. I pulled the blackout curtains for the last time and packed my possessions discarding much and taking little but memories with me. There was no way I could reach Joe. Had I really told him how much I loved him? Could I go alone through the pain and fright of childbirth?

When I entered the big pier, Joe was not there. It teemed with the confusion of departing families. As I approached the gangway leading to the ship, I saw a woman struggling with three small children and a large suitcase. Once again in my memory I saw those soft brown eyes in the cemetery and knew that I could walk bravely up that long rampI must do it! For my soul would surely die within the cold inescapable vault of self-pity without the redeeming warmth of compassion for others. My delayed dreams might never be as big and bright as before, but they were not as black and final as that fresh mound of earth. I turned to the harassed mother beside me and asked, "Can I help you up the gangway with your children?"

Our daughter, Judy, was born June 1942. A nurse brought her up from the nursery, tapped her feet till she cried over the telephone for her far-away Dad in Hawaii who said in a choked voice that he could hear her fine. He met her for the first time when she was eighteen months old! How lucky I was to have him for 54 years before he was called to a higher command.



	Wilma Jean Holcombe A violent explosion shook me from sleep. Windows rattled in protest at so rude an awakening. I rolled over as far as my swollen stomach would permit, swallowed a wave of nausea and looked at the clock..7:55 AM. Another explosion jerked Joe into a sitting position on his side of the lumpy studio couch we shared. "What was that?" he shouted. "Maybe Fort De Russey's big guns?" I asked. I snapped on our tiny radio as the house shook again with another explosion. An excited announcer was shrilling, "All servicemen return to your stations immediately. Everyone else stay in your house. This is the real McCoy!" "There goes my weekend leave," Joe grumbled. "Where's my new white uniform? Probably surprise inspection or something." He hurriedly dressed and donned his white sailor cap. Are you really going back? Don't you care about our first baby coming?" I whimpered. "What if something goes wrong?" Someone was beating on the doorJack, a neighbor ... "C'mon Joe, Japan is attacking us and Pearl Harbor is on fire. They're coming in from a carrier. Hurry!" For the first time in our year of marriage, Joe forgot I was there, ran down the sidewalk to the waiting car, jumped in and was gone. Tears ran down my cheeks and I gasped for breath. I felt the icy crawl of hysteria. Terror had gripped me as I thought of my approaching delivery and it was smothering me now. What was I to do? I couldn't take care of myself and I was tied to this thing that grew in my belly. Commotion on our usually quiet street brought me back to reality. Truckloads of armed soldiers whizzed by. People clustered in groups on the street squinting at the sky. Specks in the sky were really enemy planes they said. Sporadic bursts of sound and smoke belched from the big coastal guns of nearby Fort De Russey. Our house was near the beach on one side of the crescent-shaped harbor. Across the bay, some fifteen miles away, lay Pearl Harbor. Near its entrance a ship was plainly aground and burningthe USS NEVADA someone told meJoe's ship! I could almost smell his flesh scorching in that burning oil. I ran blindly into the house, threw myself into bed, and drew the covers over my head to hide from all those horrible things. But I couldn't shut out that hateful voice on the bedside radio about people dying and being killed. "it is estimated the assault has almost completely annihilated our fighting force at Pearl Harbor Battleship Row was the ripest target. Among other damaged battleships, the ARIZONA has sunk with all her crew aboard after receiving five direct bomb hits!" My seventeen-year-old cousin, Delbert Spencer, had recently been assigned to the NEVADA and had visited us several times. Was he, too, fathoms deep in that murky water? Was I to lose everyone I loved? Somehow that dreadful day passed. Another sailor's wife came to tell me I mustn't stay therelandings might be made on our familiar beach. I just kept shaking my head and finally she went away. I no longer felt paniconly an extreme desire to keep busy, to do something....anything! Next morning General Short proclaimed martial law and Honolulu geared itself for war. There were too few daylight hours to do everything necessary for a besieged city. The whole town must be completely black at night for even a small pinpoint of light could guide enemy bombers. Food conservation went into effect. No food would be coming in except for fighting forces with bare necessities for civilians. Barbed wire was strung along our own Waikiki Beach. I was issued a gas mask with instructions to carry it at all times except when asleep. People seemed drawn together by the common bonds of war. Strangers nodded and exchanged news. Any man in uniform was "aloha'd" for he might bring news from Pearl Harbor. I was notified by the office of the 14th Naval District that I must immediately register for evacuation. When I went to the registration desk an officer gave me a sheaf of papers to fill out, glanced at my protruding stomach and said, "You'll go on the first medical convoy. Be packed and ready. You'll get a call one night and sail next morning early." "But I'm not going to leave. I want to stay with my husband," I told him. "I know how you feel but you have no choice. We've no time nor place to take care of wives and kids, especially with medical problems who can't work " I won't register. I'm a civilian and I live here," I yelled The officer looked at me speculatively and said, " This has been tried before and the Commander has a remedyhe'll just confine your husband to his ship and you'll never get to see him. Don't you want to help your husband? Then go back where you're safe and he won't have to worry about you." With no respite, I grudgingly filled out the forms and went home wondering if I would ever see Joe again. The next night, just before mandated curfew, he came and I knew why I had refused to leave this househe might come back looking for me. His white uniform was covered with oil, a leg ripped and a sleeve missing. Three days beard masked his chin and tired eyes looked out from it. There was something else there toosadness! This was not the same boy I had married but a man who folded me into his arms. Nothing else mattered now that I knew he was alive. "Jeanie, I've been sick worrying about you. We heard the Japanese had landed over here and were bayoneting everyone. I'd have died if you and the baby had been hurt. I have to go right back. I was just sent in to pick up supplies for the crew. As he looked silently out at the darkening city I knew he wanted to say something else..."Jeanie, I hate to tell youit's Delbert! He's gone! He was passing ammunition on a gun battery and the ready box he was standing by took a direct hit. He never knew what hit himmy friends, George, Ed, Billalmost the whole crew of the ARIZONAall gone!" Tears rolled soundlessly down his face and I sensed the terrible hurt in this man whom I had never seen cry before. I put my arms around him and held his head on my shoulder for the few precious minutes we had left. I felt a movement of the baby within me and felt a sudden intense desire to preserve that which was part of him and me! For the first time, I, who had always been so dependent on other people, was feeling responsibility for another human life. It was a strange, joyous feelingone I had never known before. He gave me the number of Delbert's hastily prepared grave in Nuuanu Cemetery, no names, and only narrow wooden markers with a number. We kissed goodbye for perhaps the last time and he hastened down the darkening street. Next day I plodded up the narrow winding street into the quiet recesses of Nuuanu cemetery. It was a visual shock to see the great gashes of raw earth among the flowering plumeria bushes. Graves were close together. When I slid to my knees beside A20, I almost sat on the grave next to it. There were no flowers nor any attempt to camouflage the unrelenting bleakness. I patted down some of the dirt clods like a blanket around Delbert. It was all I could think of to do for him. I looked up as footsteps approached. It was an oriental girl. How could she? How could she come here when her people were the cause of all this death and destruction? She wore a loose kimono over her thickening body. She drew small containers of rice and fruit from her basket and placed them at the foot of the mound next to me. She looked up and her soft, sad, brown eyes met mine. Her glance fell to the flowerless grave beside me and she hesitantly held out a small bowl of rice. "I prepared much food for my husband to carry him on his last journey. May I offer some to you so your loved one may also make the long journey in comfort?" I looked at the serene face and tears stung my eyes. She had not wrapped herself in self-pity as I had done. She, who had lost so much, still had something left to share with me who had lost so much less. I placed her gift at Delbert's feet, smiled at her and quietly left her to commune with her husband. That night I received my call. I pulled the blackout curtains for the last time and packed my possessions discarding much and taking little but memories with me. There was no way I could reach Joe. Had I really told him how much I loved him? Could I go alone through the pain and fright of childbirth? When I entered the big pier, Joe was not there. It teemed with the confusion of departing families. As I approached the gangway leading to the ship, I saw a woman struggling with three small children and a large suitcase. Once again in my memory I saw those soft brown eyes in the cemetery and knew that I could walk bravely up that long rampI must do it! For my soul would surely die within the cold inescapable vault of self-pity without the redeeming warmth of compassion for others. My delayed dreams might never be as big and bright as before, but they were not as black and final as that fresh mound of earth. I turned to the harassed mother beside me and asked, "Can I help you up the gangway with your children?" Our daughter, Judy, was born June 1942. A nurse brought her up from the nursery, tapped her feet till she cried over the telephone for her far-away Dad in Hawaii who said in a choked voice that he could hear her fine. He met her for the first time when she was eighteen months old! How lucky I was to have him for 54 years before he was called to a higher command.