John E. Loranger

December 7, 1941  6:30 a.m. Wolmack (a friend of mine) and myself took our usual trip to the top of the hill above us on Aiea Heights, USN Mobile Hospital #2, Aiea, Hawaii (New Construction), to the Radio Locator Monitor Unit.  We usually did this each Sunday morning to hear the news from Stateside - since this unit's transformers were powerful enough to do so.  One of the men, on local monitoring that morning stated that a report of unidentified under water craft had been reported in a restricted are/zone.  We gave no thought to this information, but were interested only in the news from Stateside.  Later on we were to find out that this bit of information/news turned out to be one of the small Japanese submarines in the area. 7:55 a.m. While the crew was lined up, outside the mess hall, waiting to be served our morning meal, upon looking at Ford Island, below us (we were about 800 feet elevation above it) we noted a large number of aircraft appearing to dive bomb the island and Battle Wagon (large warships) Row.  One remark made, "It seems a silly time for the air force to be practice bombing this early in morning", however, that thought soon vanished as we observed the bombs were real and doing a great deal of damage.  It was also about this time we noted the planes markings with the Rising Sun (Red Ball Symbol) on their sides.  We knew this was the Royal Japanese Airforce Insignia. Bosun Mate Brown (BM 1st) and Mr. Sant (Pharmacist) cried out that we would hit the dirt - this is a real air raid.  It didn't take us long to take his advice and get the idea this was real. Some of us were a little slow in "hitting the dirt," and were fascinated (in a way) by the scene depicted below us.  It appeared, to us, in a way, like watching a movie-tone news screen in a movie theater.  We noted the ships in the harbor were moving about, firing their guns as they were able.  The USS Arizona (Battle Wagon) being one of them that suffered greatly by taking two bombs down her stack - still she continued to fire her guns and sent shrapnel into the air in our direction.  It was this problem that caused injury/death - within minutes of the raid because the shrapnel hit a friend of mine (Thurman) in the chest causing him to have an instant reaction by saying "I'm hit."  This must have been an automatic reaction because he was dead immediately.  On his left another friend (Salter?) took a piece of shrapnel in his left arm - just above the wrist and miracle of miracles went completely through without bone damage.  He later almost lost the same arm by going into Honolulu and having "Remember Pearl Harbor" tattooed on his arm - causing ink tattoo poisoning. Unbeknown, at the time, I too had received small shrapnel lacerative cuts across my shoulders when I had made a sudden turn away from the incoming shrapnel.  Small pieces had imbedded themselves just under the skin causing bleeding.  One larger piece had imbedded itself in the upper back area - but, at the time I was unaware of it.  Noted only later on in the day when working at the dock across from Ford Island. 8:20 a.m. A group of us were immediately taken by truck down the cane field areas road to the Boat Landing from Ford Island.  Our objective was to help men from the water and place the injured on stretchers to be transported to the hospital.  We soon ran out of stretchers and had to use mattresses to carry the wounded.  The bodies that proved to be deceased were piled to one side and would later be transported to the morgue for identification, for the present our attention was to the living and trying in every way to sustain life. 8:30 a.m. While working, one of the men remarked that I must really get into my work for I even had blood all over my back.  Upon checking, I then realized it was shrapnel I had probably taken from the USS Arizona, when she had thrown up the barrage toward us at Aiea Heights.  Since it did not hurt me - I continued with the task at hand - getting men from the waters.  At the time it was felt, by all, our immediate need was to the severily injured and saving of life.  No one gave a thought to such things as the Purple Heart award/decoration.  Therefore, my small injuries were tended to and I continued working, because of this, no record was ever made of my injuries - so no Purple Heart was ever issued. 10:30 a.m. On reflection - NOW - it seems amusing how some instances can be observed/noted/recorded on one's mind - even in the heat of battle - such was the case when here/what historical event may take place, or our own involvement in that event. It is also amazing how details such as the attack can be recalled, pretty clearly, and noted yet events only partly remembered on other occasions.  I believe the intensity of the situation relative to time and place the concentration placed on what we were required to do, also, I believe it is a sobering education instantaneous of our need to want to survive and still render care/help for those we have to handle in the pursuit of one's work.  A number of heros (I imagine) and heroic deeds were done that day and still no one gave throught to it, it was a job that had to be and was done.  It was a time of doing one's job and became an intragral part of it in such time of street/attention to do what needed to be done. There's a tendency not to be fearful - while involved in life saving work that overrides (to a great extent) the actual fear an individual may feel.  Only after the situation, with the realization of what had actually happened did we become fearful.  An instance in point - would be - while working on a boat landing, pulling sailors from the water, you kind of half-sense that the ground near you is turfed up, dirt seems to spout.  Then after everything has calmed down, somewhat, you realize that you were being strafed by aircraft.  Only the grace of God kept many of us from being added to the casuality list that day.  I thank God many times during this war, because I have had many a close call to injury/death.  I fully realize now that there are no atheists on the battle fields of War. Another instance, I seemed to fail to mention, was that during the attack some of the Japanese aircraft passed near us - thinking, I guess, that our metal huts might possibly be storage area for munitions.  Anyway, one of our marine guards kept shooting at the passing bombing planes, he kept shooting into the cockpit and I believe he did hit a pilot. That same night - why I call character crazy - he thought he'd fire a few random shots around and scare the hell out of us - he did!  We didn't think it funny. Incidentally - the scars from the surface shrapnel wounds to my shoulder sixty years ago, have now faded to small white spots.  The small scar of imbedded shrapnel in my right shoulder has now shifted to a lower left side (hardly visible).  Just proves how much even the skin area of a person's body changes/moves in a number of years. Information provided by John E. Loranger.

Additional information provided by Mr. Loranger's daughter - Lisa McFadden February/March/April 1942 In this period of time  after the attach on Pearl Harbor  It was decided that the Battleship USS West Virginia would be raised and refurbished for war duty.  As this battleship was raised (by air pontoons) from where the Japanese had sunk her, Battle Ship Row, Ford Island, a medical unit from the Mobile Hospital #2 Unit was assigned the responsibility of removal of the bodies of her deceased personnel. I was among the first in a group so selected to perform this task.  Dr. Frank Soule, Lt JG, MC, USN, was the officer in charge of the unit.  We donned diver's suits, less helmets and took turns being topside and below decks.  Those topside had line handling responsibilities, while those below decks, as they cleared the water, had the responsibility of floating the bodies into canvas body bags.  Those stationed in the hold had to be alert to the raising of the canvas bags and maintain a firm guide line on the bag so it wouldn't swing around the area. The bodies were pretty well decomposed, having been submerged for several months and the flesh would come away from the bone, or your hands as they were floated into the body bag.  I cannot recall an occasion when I had, ever, seen the expression "Turning Green" more apply fit an occasion than during the first day of this operation.  Most of us did turn a green color, even the Doctor.  After all we had been dealing with fresh/clean injuries, many times in an antiseptic operating room, but this was another matter not a very pleasant experience for any of us. The reason most of this group were selected was for the reason they had been exposed/worked in the operating room of the hospitals, therefore, they might not be as squeamish about taking a part in this necessary operation.  Regardless it proved to be an unpleasant task  collecting decomposed bodies. As I had mentioned, we each took turns, in the hold, handling guide lines to the body bag, guiding the lifting wench in bringing up the canvas bags.  I was on the lower level and was following through with this activity  suddenly, for some unexplained reason, the bag was lifted faster than we realized  end result the bottom by-passed the top and the contents of the bag was dumped on me, flesh/water/bone went into my suit, down my neck, in my mouth, I guess I too had turned green.  I think, thereafter, I spitted for three weeks, each time I thought of the incident.  I sure took a lot of kidding about it from my ship mates, however, they agreed they would not like to have that happen to them. Incidentally, the "Death Squad", as they called us, had to eat alone and sleep separate from the others  seems the smell of death hangs with one who does that type of work.  We thought we would never get rid of the smell that clung to our bodies.  I believe it was almost six months of intense washings that finally got rid of the smell. The bodies removed from the battleship were taken ashore, at the landing dock, there they were transferred to wooden boxes for transportation to the morgue for proper identification and preparation for burial.  Although a gruesome task, these men were still individuals of loved ones and as such were handled and treated with the respect of a fallen comrade.  They, the first tragedies of what was to be a long war. Events such as this one that you participate in never really leave one's mind.  They bring home all to readily, the tragedy that only war can bring.  It does make one realize the need to halt ALL such confrontations that occur in the world that end up as casualties as we have seen, in ALL WARS.