History That Doesn't Suck - 194: Pearl Harbor: December 7, 1941

Episode Date: December 7, 2025

“Man your battle stations! This is no sh*t!” This is the story of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.  It’s 7:55 on Sunday morning, December 7, 1941. 183 Japanese aircraft descend on the United States Naval Base at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Sailors awaken to a nightmare as “Battleship Row” becomes a graveyard, hundreds of US planes are destroyed without ever leaving the ground, and the cries of thousands of dying, wounded, and terrified Americans rend the air. It is a day that will “live in infamy.” And it means war. ____ Connect with us on ⁠HTDSpodcast.com⁠ and go deep into ⁠episode bibliographies⁠ and ⁠book recommendations⁠ join discussions in our ⁠Facebook community⁠ get news and discounts from ⁠The HTDS Gazette⁠  come ⁠see a live show⁠ get ⁠HTDS merch⁠ or become an ⁠HTDS premium⁠ member for bonus episodes and other perks. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hello, my friends, it's Professor Greg Jackson. Now you can see the live tour by land and by sea, because we're planning a four-night VIP cruise aboard the beautiful celebrity reflection. From May 18th to the 22nd, we'll sail from Fort Lauderdale to Key West and the Bahamas. While on board, I'll not only give a special private performance of my live show, The Unlikely Union, we'll also have a night of fun history trivia, a poolside party, nightly group dining together, excursions, and the ultimate book club meeting.

Because, if you don't know, I've been working on a book for the past two years, and I can't think of a better way to celebrate its publication this spring than with my family, friends, and the best history fans. So go to htbspodcast.com and click on live shows for more information, or click the link in the show notes. Hope to see you on the road, or at sea. It's about seven in the morning, Sunday, December 7th, 1941.

We're among the Pacific's Hawaiian Islands, near the northern tip of Oahu, where two young army privates, 19-year-old Joseph Lockard, and 21-year-old George Elliott, are training with some new technology, something called radio detection and ranging, or radar. It's a brilliant new system. largely the work of Britain's Sir Robert Watson Watt that can track aircraft from over a hundred miles away by bouncing radio waves off of them. Every morning from 4 to 7 a.m., Army Signal Corman on Oahu practice at five mobile radar stations. The other four stations have

signed off for the day. But given that their ride back to base is yet to arrive, George, who's a brand-new plotter, wants to get in all the training you can. Well, Joe, who's the radar operator, is happy to oblige. The two remain at the camp-like, portable, Opana radar station, working with their mobile SCR-270 radar installation. It's now 7.02 a.m. Joe and George are getting a large return, indicating something just over 130 miles north of Oahu,

something massive. That's weird, especially for a sleepy Sunday morning, and it's moving toward them fast. Okay, better call this in. Rushing to their field telephone, the young signal corpsman placed a call to Fort Shafter down on the other side of the island at 7.20 a.m. The operator soon calls back,

connecting them to fighter pilot and current watch officer, Lieutenant Kermin A. Tyler. Immediately, Joe starts explaining what he and George are seeing, that something large is approaching Oahu from the north. But Kermit, who's new to radar as well, is actually relieved to hear it. See, the young lieutenant heard continuous ad-free music on his car radio yesterday, and a friend told him that KGMB does this when planes are flying in from the mainland,

so the pilots can use the broadcast and find their way to Hawaii with greater ease. Perfectly logical. He has no doubt whatsoever that all the radar is picking up is this large group of B-17s, or flying fortresses, as they're also known, due in from California this morning. Kermit reassures Joe. He says four words that will forever be seared into the young private's memory.

Don't worry about it. Joe rejoins George. Together, they watch the blip on their oscilloscope indicate that whatever this theme, this group, is. It's closing in. By 7.30, it's only 45 miles out. It's now approaching 7.50 a.m. swinging westward around most of Oahu, a monoplane carrier attack bomber, a Nakajima B5-in-2, cuts through Hawaii's blue skies. Seated in the middle of this three-man aircraft is the 39-year-old Japanese mission commander, Lieutenant Commander Fuchida Mitsuo. Yes, we caught a glimpse of this flight in our last episode. And as we know, Fuchita is wearing a white scarf around his flight. suit helmet, a Hachimaki, gifted to Fuchita by the senior maintenance officer of the aircraft

carrier, Akagi. It is, as he told the lieutenant commander, the maintenance crew's gesture of support, quote, all of the maintenance crew would like to go along. Since we can't, we want you to take this Hachimaki as a symbol that we are with you in spirit, close quote. As his aircraft approaches Lehi Lehi Point, Fuchita peers through his binoculars. at Oahu's southern shore. And that's when he sees it. A natural inlet, or natural lagoon, rather, whose salty waters form a series of bays

with an even smaller aisle in its middle. This natural lagoon is Pearl Harbor, and that small aisle, known as Ford Island, is the location of the U.S. Naval Air Station. The B5N2 draws closer still as Fuchita takes in Pearl Harbor's details. Yes, it appears the... the Americans have their ships all lined up. Sandwiched between the southeast side of the U.S.

Naval Air Station on Ford Island and to the shore of the harbor's southern lock is nothing less than seven of the U.S. Pacific Fleet's mightiest battleships, all lying at anchor in a neat little row. This battleship row, as it's called, is great for protecting these precious vessels from the American's greatest fear, sabotage, but also makes them sitting ducks for an aerial attack. Hmm. But shouldn't there be another battleship or two? Aircraft carriers? Doesn't matter? Perhaps they're among the many other vessels in the harbor's waters. This is still almost exactly what Fujita expected to find. At 7.49 a.m., he instructs his radio man to transmit the attack signal to all the high-level bombers, dive bombers, torpedo bombers, and fighters following

their monoclaim. Toe! Toe! Toe! Toe! To! Each and every plane, which, including Fuchitas, comes to 183 aircraft in total, moves into attack formation. Fuchita's B5N2 is now over the southwest corner of Oahu, near Barber's Point. The Americans are truly clueless. Everything is as predicted. This means the attack is on, and at 753 a.m., with Pearl Harbor in clear view below, Fuchita signals that they have that. element of surprise to his 183 aircraft armada and the whole Japanese fleet as he

broadcasts the code word TOTA, TORA, TORA! TORA! Welcome to History That Doesn't Suck. I'm your professor, Greg Jackson, and I'd like to tell you a story. It's been a long time coming, but today we've arrived. Today's story is that of December 7, 1941. Japan's infamous attack on Pearl Harbor. We'll begin with some very brief background. Not much since episodes 189 and 193 detailed that

background, but nonetheless, I'll set the stage. Then it's on. We'll experience the first wave of 183 Japanese aircraft from the perspective of a few sailors in the thick of it all on battleship row. We'll next head to the White House and hear the news of the attack right along with FDR. Side note, if you want more on the conspiracy theories suggesting that FDR knew in advance, revisit episode 189, but I'll otherwise remind you that the United States code breaking had not revealed the Japanese plan. In other words, Franklin didn't know. Then we're back to Oahu for the second wave of 171 Japanese aircraft, this time from the perspective of an American pilot from Wheeler Field. And as the battle ends, we'll see brave medical professionals

like First Lieutenant Annie G. Fox attend to the wounded. We'll then follow one more Japanese attack made immediately after Pearl Harbor in the Philippines before heading back to Washington, D.C., for a famous speech about infamy that ends with a call for a declaration of war.

A final note before we jump in. This is a sorrowful moment, a day that every American alive will remember forever. It will wake a sleeping giant from an isolationist slumbring. even if there is no evidence Yamamoto Isoroku ever said anything about a sleeping giant. It will indeed spark extreme patriotism and regretfully, extreme prejudice that will eventually

lead to the internment of over 100,000 Japanese Americans. While we won't go past December 8, 1941 in this episode, keep in mind toward that aftermath. We'll reference it in future episodes. And with that, let's back up the calendar for a little refresher. Then, experience Pearl Harbor. Rewind. As we learned in episodes 189 and 193, Japan's empire building at China's expense is souring its relationship with the United States throughout the 1930s. Things escalate in July, 1939, when the U.S. announces it is revoking Japan's favored nation trading status, effective as of January 1940.

Japan, far from backing down, doubles down. In September 1940, it signs the tripartite pact, formally aligning itself with Nazi Germany and fascist Italy, while also moving troops into northern French and China. Uncle Sam responds by cutting off exports of aviation fuel and metal to Japan. Indeed, the slow burn of the 1930s is reaching a flashpoint. Even as tensions rise, commander-in-chief of the combined Japanese fleet,

Yamamoto Isoroku, remains deeply opposed to attacking the United States. Having spent a few years in the U.S. himself, he considers Americans, quote, adventures some but scientifically based, close quote, traits that, combined with their industry and endless oil reserves, would ensure a Japanese defeat. Ah, but that tripartite pact, Yamamoto considers it the kiss of death. To him, this Axis Alliance, means war with the U.S. is inevitable. So, despite thinking such a war is a terrible idea,

so terrible that the apocryphal waking a sleeping giant quote will later become a part of his lore, he begins ideating on how to fight it and somehow beat the odds. It may have been an older idea, it might have been inspired by war games, or even by a novel. But one way or the other, Yamamoto starts thinking that, In the event of war with America, Japan should strike hard at Pearl Harbor, thereby crippling

the American Pacific Fleet and giving the land of the rising sun an advantage, or at least a chance. Now, the logistics of secretly moving a long-range fleet, not just the aircraft carriers, battleships, and subs, but thinking through mid-ocean refueling and coordinated movements, are dizzying. Nonetheless, a staff report in April 1941, convinces Yamamoto that if war with the U.S. happens, an attack on the Hawaiian base is feasible. That if starts looking more like a win that same summer. After Japan pushes into southern French Indochina, in July, 1941, the U.S. and allies respond by freezing Japanese assets

and cutting the island empire's access to necessary goods like rubber, steel, and oil, which effectively cuts Japan's oil access by 90%. Well bent on empire, Japan doesn't feel chastened into changing. It feels cornered into a fight. In August, the aircraft carrier, Akagi, yes, the very same which we encountered in this episode's opening, heads to Kagoshima Harbor to train for an undisclosed mission. If you take a look at a map,

the terrain is eerily similar to a certain harbor in Oahu, Hawaii. Newly minted flight commander, Fuchy. Shida Mitsu leads trainings. Nonetheless, doubts persist for many in September, when war games indicate that, even if successful, an attack on Pearl Harbor will likely cost Japan two aircraft carriers. By October, final decisions are being made. Yamamoto says to his commanders assembled for yet another exercise aboard the Nagato, quote, Some of you may have objections, but so long as I'm commander-in-chief,

I'm intent on going through with the raid on Hawaii. And if we're going through with it, I'll do my utmost to see that the units carrying it out have all the carrier forces they ask for at their disposal. Close quote. More top secret meetings follow. And Vice Admiral Nagumo Chuichi, who would personally lead the fleet attacking Pearl Harbor if it happens,

remains unconvinced. But Yamamoto is insistent. If war with the U.S. must come. And it must. This attack, too, must happen. Finally, Nagumo gets on board. With hours and weeks of practice, embalming raids and refueling at sea, and the secret still kept, Japanese leaders feel ready to attack. On November 5, 1941, Chief of the Naval General Staff issues Imperial Headquarters Navy Section

Order No. 1, in the name of the emperor, announcing the need to prepare for war. quote, in the interest of self-defense and survival, the empire is due to open hostilities with the United States, Britain and Holland, in the first 10 days of December. Close quote. Yamamoto's response and detailed plan, combined fleet top secret operation order number one, is stealthily shared with senior military personnel. In addition to many other war aims, it directly states that, quote, In the east, the American fleet will be destroyed, close quote, and mention specific plans, to quote it again, for the Pearl Harbor attack.

On November 7th, Yamamoto issues combined fleet top secret operation order number two, solidifying Y day as December 8th, 1941, Japanese time, that is. That'll be December 7th in the United States. Interestingly, one note mentions that December 10th, might be the ideal date for a dawn-breaking attack, since there will be no moonlight. But it's pretty well known that the U.S. fleet sails into harbor on Friday and back out again on Monday or Tuesday. Thus, a Sunday attack would cause the most damage.

Ah, well then. Sunday, December 7th, it is. The plan is revealed to Navy officers on November 17th. About a week later, at 9 a.m., November 26th, 6th, a Japanese carrier strike force under the command of Vice Admiral Nagumo Chuichi, his massive Kido Bhutai set sail from Hito Kapu Bay in the Kuril Islands, bound for Hawaii. On December 2nd, the crews, thus far kept in the dark, are brought into the light, so to speak. As we mentioned in episode 193, Yamamoto sends the coded message,

climb Mount Ni Taka, 1208. As the Kido Bhutai glides near and near toward Hawaii, overall anticipation increases among the crews. Everyone is under strict orders for radio silence. That's the only way this thing will work. Two days later, December 4th, they're in holding position. 42 degrees north, 170 degrees east. The six aircraft carriers, two battleships, two heavy cruisers,

one light cruiser, nine destroyers, seven tankers, and three submarines all lie in late. Combat ships fill up their fuel tanks. Supply ships had back to Japan. An eerie calm settles before the storm. On the night of December 6th to 7th, Hawaii time, the Japanese fleet speeds toward Pearl Harbor. And the next morning, at 6 a.m.,

this vast array of vessels is 200 to 220 miles north of Oahu. And we know what happens next. Flight commander, Fuchida, and his armada of 183 aircraft begin their flight. Radar technicians, Joseph Lockard, and George Elliott noticed something is coming toward Oahu. Lieutenant Kermit A. Tyler assumes its B-17s from California. And thus, Fuchida and his armada make their way all the way to Pearl Harbor without ever losing the element of surprise. It's 755 on a sleepy Sunday morning, December 7, 1941. Across the island of Oahu, civilians and sailors alike are just starting their day.

And in Pearl Harbor, that means raising the colors. Aboard the seven mighty vessels forming battleship row, as well as the eight cruisers, 29 destroyers, and so many other U.S. Navy ships moored or at anchor, and this great and calm natural lagoon's waters, military bands are assembling, if not already assembled, to play the national anthem as their fellow sailors hoist the U.S. flag up to Halliard. And it's as this sacred daily military ritual is on the cusp of sending the stars and stripes to the top of so many flagstaffs to flutter in the Hawaiian breeze that it begins. Swooping down to a mere 20 feet above the water.

Japanese bombers, those B-5-N-2s, move straight for battleship row as they drop torpedoes. These aircraft shouldn't be able to carry out such an attack in Pearl Harbor's shallow depths, but Japanese engineers have accounted for this by adding stabilizing fins to the torpedoes that enable them to defy all expectations as they smash into and around the pride of the American-specific fleet. As alarmed sound, sailors accustomed to live ammunition drill. fail to grasp what's going on. More than that, it's Sunday.

Many are still in their bunks and respond by simply pulling their pillows over their ears. But things get real as the damage starts to sink in, which takes a mere minute aboard the battleship USS Oklahoma. Assailed with torpedoes at 7.56 a.m., its electricity is gone in an instant. Bosen Adolf Bothney will never forget hearing the call go out on the ship's PA system. He springs into action, doing his part, even as the Oklahoma begins to list right under his feet. Two vessels up Battleship Row aboard USS West Virginia, mess attendant second class Doris Miller, or Dory to his friends, drops the laundry he was collecting.

Yeah, not so important when torpedoes are crashing down and with the captain already mortally wounded. An officer orders Dory, a well-built, former fullback football player from Texas, to help move him. Dashing up to the bridge, Dory helps move the dying captain. But then, he springs into action in an unexpected way, though never trained nor permitted to fire the ship's guns, because black men like himself are not allowed to fill such roles. Dory doesn't wait for an invitation when he sees an unmanned 50-Cal-browning anti-aircraft machine gun. Instead, he reassigns himself without worrying about the color line, figuring out the weapon as he goes. Just how many aircraft, the brave, gallant, and untrained black Texan hit will grow in subsequent hellings.

But to his own recollection, he'll hit one. And Dory won't stop until the order goes out to abandon ship. Near the top of Battleship Row, just off the northeast corner of Ford Island, 19-year-old seaman first class Donald Stratton has just dashed across the Pennsylvania-class battleship, USS Arizona, to reach his battle station, an anti-aircraft director. Settling into this metal box-like compartment from which he and a small crew control the ship's port-side anti-aircraft guns, he watches as a Japanese bomber zooms low, unleashing, strafing fire across the Arizona's deck.

Sailors fall dead or wounded. splinters, and as the plane zooms by, Donald will later painfully recall how, I could see the pilot in his leather helmet and goggles taunting me with a smirk and a wave as he passed, like a grinning devil. Despite one man being shot in the leg, Donald's crew nonetheless soon joins him. But as they direct, their guns aren't hitting anything, so the team makes adjustments. But still, their anti-aircraft shells are exploding too soon in the sky. Honestly, they don't know what to do. The Japanese torpedo bombers are flying too low for them to dare to target

for fear of hitting their own ships, while the dive bombers are too high to reach. Meanwhile, bombs strafing fire and billows of black smoke fill the harbor. This is a nightmare, and it's about to get far worse. Initially striking the deck near turret number two, a massive armor-piercing bomb slices through several, steel decks of the Arizona to reach the black powder-filled Ford magazine. A fireball roars a thousand feet into the sky, as do debris in shrapnel, including chunks of steel and chunks

of flesh. A 15-year-old sailor only here because of forged papers, Martin Matthews, clings to a buoy after being blown off the Arizona by the explosion and watches as all of this rains down. I do remember many parts of what you might call shrapnel or pieces of of steel from the ship and even dismembered bodies. I saw thigh and leg. I saw fingers. I saw hands. I saw elbows and arms.

It's far too much for a young boy of 15 years old to have seen. As of 8.06 a.m., the Arizona, that great, powerful battleship, is going down. As it does, it's taking 1,177 American sailors and Marines to their wives. graves, most in a very literal sense. Some 900 of them will forever remain entombed here, in Pearl Harbor's waters, and inside the last ship on which they ever served. Among the crew are 38 sets of brothers. Yes, some American families will soon learn they lost more than one son today. One family is losing two generations. Machinist's mate, Thomas Augusta Free, and his son, Seaman's second class, William Thomas Free, both serve on the Arizona.

Though now divorced from Thomas, I can only imagine how Myrtle will respond when she gets the news about him and their son. She is but one example of the tears and pain that the sinking of the Arizona alone causes families across the nation. Indeed, these 1,177 souls account for nearly half of those who will die today. And that death count is racking up fast. Even as our friend, Seaman First Class Donald Stratton, and his anti-aircraft crew miraculously escape the Arizona in the minutes before she sinks, most pushing through the searing pain of burned flesh as they climb a knotted rope over the oil and flame-covered waters to the nearby repair ship USS Vestal. Other ships are going down. At 808, the Oklahoma capsizes.

Its 429 deaths is the second greatest loss of life today. Meanwhile, the Pacific Fleet's flagship USS California is slowly flooding. The West Virginia is in flames, and within the next few minutes, the Arizona finishes sinking, while on the other side of Fort Island, away from Battleship Row, the target ship, USS, Utah, is capsized. All of this by 8.12 a.m., not even 20 minutes since the Japanese first attacked. By the time this first wave ends near 9 o'clock, U.S. aircraft on Oahu air stations are largely destroyed as well. As for the Japanese, they fly off having lost only nine aircraft.

In the final minutes of the first wave, at 8.40 a.m., announcer Webley Edwards, cuts into KGMB's regular programming. We interrupt this broadcast to bring you important news. Please pay attention. The island is under attack. I repeat, the island. is under attack by hostile forces. But even now, with well over a thousand dead in the inferno-like hellscape that is Pearl Harbor,

some listeners think it's a hoax. Recalling Orson Well's War of the World's broadcast a few years back, they still won't believe the attack is real, even when they hear it on the radio. History That Doesn't Suck is sponsored by Better Help. Monday, February 4th, 1942, the Sarasota Herald Tribune noted that high tide would occur at 5.03 p.m. Eastern wartime. That same day, the Kansas City Times headline read, It's really wartime. The clock skips an hour to catch up. The paper also reported that the change confused many readers who posed questions like, should I set the alarm ahead too.

And in Bend, Oregon, the bulletin headline was, watches clocks and people adjust to new wartime across the nation during world war two clocks had sprung forward on daylight savings time that lasted from february nineteen forty two until fall of nineteen forty five after the war's end imagine the fallback adjustment when clocks wound back an hour for the first time in three years a minor inconvenience for a major relief to end the war thankfully we're not at war today but seasonal changes in less daylight can be a struggle for some. This November, BetterHelp is encouraging everyone to reach out. Check in on friends and reconnect with loved ones. Talking to someone can help. That same feeling comes when people start therapy. BetterHelp makes it simple to talk to a licensed therapist. BetterHelp's matching process pairs you with someone who's a good fit for your needs. If the first therapist isn't right, you can switch any time. With more than 5 million people served, BetterHelp is one of the world's largest and most trusted online therapy platforms. This month, don't wait to reach out.

Whether you're checking in on a friend or reaching out to a therapist yourself, BetterHelp makes it easier to take that first step. Our listeners get 10% off their first month at betterhelp.com slash htDS. That's betterh-E-L-P dot com slash htDS. Hello, my friends. It's Professor Greg Jackson. Now you can see the live tour by land. and by sea, because we're planning a four-night VIP cruise aboard the beautiful celebrity reflection. From May 18th to the 22nd, we'll sail from Fort Lauderdale to Key West and the Bahamas. While on board, I'll not only give a special private performance of my live show, The Unlikely Union, we'll also have a night of fun history trivia, a poolside party, nightly group dining together,

excursions, and the ultimate book club meeting. Because, if you don't know, I've been working on a book for the past two years, and I can't think of a better way to celebrate its publication this spring than with my family, friends, and the best history fans. So go to htbspodcast.com and click on live shows for more information, or click the link in the show notes. Hope to see you on the road, or at sea. It's 1.40 p.m. Eastern Time, December 7th, 1941. We're in Washington, D.C., in the Oval Office, where President Franklin Delano Roosevelt is just finishing lunch with his close friend and confident, Harry Hopkins. Bad health took this former Secretary of Commerce out of Franklin's cabinet years ago, but Harry is still among the president's closest advisors.

And boy, does Franklin need advice now. Between the war in Europe, isolationists at home, and saber-rattling from Japan, Franklin is probably dreaming of the simpler days when bank closures were his biggest problems. And although Washington spent last night puzzling over a series of urgent Japanese diplomatic messages decrypted by American codebreakers, nothing in them hinted at what is coming now. Their lunch is suddenly interrupted by a phone call. It's Secretary of the Navy, Frank Knox. Franklin must think he's misheard.

Did the Navy secretary really just say that Hawaii has been attacked? That Japanese planes are bombing the U.S. naval base and Pacific Fleet in Pearl Harbor. It's only just past dawn there. No, surely this can't be. But in fact, it's true, and making sure that's clear, Frank Knox all but yells into the president's ear. This is no drill! Also in shock, Harry turns to the president. There must be some mistake.

Surely Japan would not attack Honolulu. But the shock fades fast. Franklin grasps the grim logic immediately. An unexpected strike on one of America's strongest Pacific outposts. Of course that's what Japan would do if it ever came to war. Equally clear is that the national conversation about isolationism is now over. As Harry so succinctly puts it, the Japanese have, quote, made the decision for him, close quote.

The White House scrambles into action. Franklin calls Secretary of State Cordell Hull and tells him to receive the Japanese ambassador and special envoy today as planned, but mention nothing about the attack, then send them on their way. Well, Cordell does his best to follow the president's orders. Nonetheless, Harry Hopkins will later mention hearing that Cordell uses some, quote, Pretty strong Tennessee mountain language, close quote, in the meeting. It's now 3 p.m. in D.C., 9 a.m. at Pearl Harbor. Franklin and his war cabinet are deep in conference.

The mood is sombre and grim. Cordell Hull, Frank Knox, Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Harold Stark, U.S. Army Chief of Staff, George C. Marshall, and the President, weigh what has happened and how they should respond. They rush to protect other potential targets across the Pacific and send orders to secure the U.S. embassy in Tokyo. Even amid the shock, each man pledges that the coming war, no matter how difficult, will prove an American victory.

The meeting is then interrupted. The war cabinet steps out, while Franklin answers a call from across the Atlantic. It's his bromance buddy, Prime Minister Winston Churchill, calling from London. Mr. President, what's this about Japan? It's quite true. They have attacked us at Pearl Harbor. We are in the same boat now. In the same boat, perhaps not the best metaphor for the moment, but no matter.

The two men speak plainly about next steps. Franklin tells Winston that he'll be asking Congress to declare war on Japan tomorrow. The British bulldog assures his friend that Britain will do the same. The need for subtlety between the two men, is gone. The age of American isolationism has ended in one morning. And Britain, after two long years of pleading for U.S. support, finally has the ally it so desperately needs, even if it means adding another enemy to its own list. And with these plans made, the call ends. This suddenly simplifies things. God be with you. God be with you is right,

especially since the Japanese attack is nowhere near finished. Launched not long after their compatriots, a second wave of 171 aircraft is already in the air and bearing down on Pearl Harbor's burning battleships, Oahu's airfields, and anything else that falls inside their bomb sites. Fires are raging, oil is coating the water, and the harbor is already choked with black smoke when this new wave descends. Civilians, too, are losing homes and lives.

That's right. Not all casualties are military. Residents across Honolulu and the surrounding communities are stunned to find themselves caught in the middle of a war they never imagined would reach them. The youngest victim of the day is three-month-old Janet Yumiko Ota, killed alongside her mother and grandmother when a U.S. anti-aircraft shell falls on their home. And that tragedy is far from unique. Civilian businesses and apartments take hits. Some Japanese pilots strafe infrastructure near military targets, including sugar mills at Waipahu and Eva, though whether they truly aimed for these sites or struck them incidentally will never be known. Even up in the air, Hawaiians get caught in the crossfire. Right before the first bombs fell, Japanese fighters fired on several small private planes simply because they were airborne.

Perhaps the best known case is that of Roy Vitusik and his son Martin, who were caught in the morning air, raid, yet somehow managed to bring down their bullet-scarred Aaronka at John Rogers Airport in the middle of the chaos. But a sad truth is that many of the 49 civilians killed and 35 wounded on Oahu the morning of December 7 are the victims of friendly fire. Quite a few American anti-aircraft rounds fired amid the desperation to stave off this attack, failed to detonate in the sky or otherwise miss their targets, striking neighborhoods and businesses, which burn as overstretched fire crews focus on saving military infrastructure. Even so, a few brave U.S. pilots running through smoke, debris, and strafing fire, managed to scramble into their cockpits, though not always

their flight suits before Japanese bombs can destroy their planes. It's some time in the morning, probably near 9 o'clock. Lieutenant Phil Rasmussen is in the air above Oahu, flying in old Curtis P-30 And what a crazy morning he's having. At 8 a.m., he was waiting to use the bathroom on his assigned base toward the middle of the island, Wheeler Field, when Japanese planes started dropping bombs on hangers and otherwise lighting up and destroying U.S. aircraft. That's when he and three of his fellow flyboys, Lou Sanders, Gordon Sterling, and John Thacker jumped into action. And what seems, on miracle, the Japanese light up and these gents got airborne. And that's how Phil ended up where he is now, flying in a four-man formation in an old monoplane

whose weaponry consists of the old school fire through the spinning propeller machine guns, while wearing nothing but his pajamas, boots, and belt, upholstering a 45-caliber pistol. Yeah, that's been his morning, and as he and the boys head toward Bellow's field, which is yet another base under attack, Phil comes to a terrible realization while checking his guns to make sure he can handle that fight. I'll let him tell you about it. We headed toward the Ko'u-Lao Mountain Range, up here to the right.

We charged our guns, meaning you're in the cockpit. You pull a charging handle back as far as your ear, and then let it slide forward, and it puts a bullet in the chamber. The 30-caliber was on my right side, so I pulled it back, charged it, and I pulled the trigger to make sure I could fire the gun.

Nothing happened. I pulled it back and put another bullet in the chamber. Pulled the trigger, nothing happened, and I had a dead gun. I couldn't fire it, couldn't use it. The 50 caliber, I pulled it back the same way and let it slide in, and it started to fire by itself. In other words, I had a runaway gun. I didn't have to pull the trigger.

It would just start firing. So I had to stop this waste of ammunition and firing, so I had to keep it cocked back there, and I was really loaded. for bear. Yeah, not ideal. Climbing up toward the mountains, the four-man squadron receives new instructions via their radiums. Instead of Bellows field, they're to head to Kanai'oe Bay. But as they cruise at 9,000 feet, they encounter Japanese fighters, Mitsubishi A6 M's, known as Zeros. This leaves our helmetless, pajama-clad pilot to make do with his one runaway gun. To quote Phil again,

This was the worst thing that could happen to us in the airplanes we were flying. We just exploded into dogfighting. One zero came perpendicular to me, and as I led him several plane lengths, I let that 50 caliber slide back in again, and it started firing by itself, and I saw a couple of puffs in his fuselage. I saw him smoking. Then, at that time, another zero came head on to me, and almost rammed me. I pulled up violently to the right.

to avoid being rammed by him. And as I pulled up, another zero got me into the size. And he blew out my canopy, shot up my tail, severed my hydraulic lines, and severed my rudder cables. I was pretty much out of control, and I tumbled down, out of control, trying to regain control of the airplane, until finally, about five or six thousand feet,

I got control of it. The cloud layer wasn't that level also, so I was popping in and out of the clouds, trying to maintain control of this. airplane. Having survived this second-wave encounter, Phil is now heading home, back to Wheeler Field. But he still faces another obstacle. Since his hydraulic line was shot, the landing gear won't go down. Luckily, the unharmed pilot is able to manually lock the gear into place, just as the P-36 touches down on the morning-due grassland strip. The plane spins a few times before finally skidding

to a stop. But all is not well on the ground here at Wheeler Field. As Phil tells us, the hangers were still on fire. The ammunition and tracers were shooting out of the hangers over our heads. Bullets stored in the hangar that ignited from the flames. The P-40s were all lined up, their backs broken, their noses pointing toward the sky. As I looked down towards Pearl Harbor, I saw this huge cloud of smoke covering the whole horizon and amid this huge black smoke where these huge orange blossoms exploding. And so, it's back to work. Well, after a quick stop at the barracks to change out of his soaking wet pajamas, that is. Now in a proper flight suit, Phil's back to save whatever planes can be salvaged and flown once more.

Lieutenant Phil Rasmussen's tale is but one of thousands from today's attack and a poignant reminder that the Japanese hit far more than Pearl Harbor. Indeed, between Wheeler, Hickham, and Bellows airfields, have a Marine Corps air station, Kanejoi Naval Air Station, as well as Schofield Barracks. Hundreds of dead military personnel and destroyed aircraft can be found at military sites across Oahu, not to mention the civilians caught in the middle of the fray we discussed earlier. Nonetheless, there is no comparison to the carnage and destruction in the harbor. By the time this second wave of the Japanese attack ends, around 9.45, battleship row is truly broken.

Like the Arizona and the Oklahoma, the West Virginia has sunk, and the California is slowly on its way down. The Nevada alone managed to get underway, and was saved, in a manner of speaking, by brilliant officers who kept the ship from blocking the harbor's channel or sinking by running her aground at Hospital Point. Even the dry docked Pennsylvania over in the U.S. Navy Yard got hit. As for the Japanese, they lost another 20 aircraft in this wave, bringing their total loss of planes for the day to 29. As the sound of Japanese aircraft, bombs

and machine guns fade into the screams of more than a thousand wounded, American military personnel are left to wonder. Will the Japanese come back yet again? Will there be a third wave? It's a good question, one that Vice Admiral Nagumo Tsuichi will soon answer. By mid-morning on December 7, 1941, the American military on Oahu might be bloodied, but its service members are on guard. They are prepared for a third wave. It's the right call. After two hammer blows in less than two hours, commanders across the island, don't doubt that the Japanese will come back again. But with Japan's commander-in-chief of the combined fleet, Yamamoto Isoroku, nearly 4,000 miles away on his flagship in Japanese waters,

the decision to make a third run or not lies with the commander of the first fleet, or the Kidobutai, Admiral Nagumo Chuichi. And he decides it's a no. Professional and amateur historians alike will long debate the choice. Some will say he could have truly finished off America's Pacific Fleet. Others will point to the Vice Admiral's own limited resources and limiting logistics. But whether he's making a foolishly conservative decision or intelligently recognizing that his forces have played a big hand and beaten the house, so now is the time to cash out rather than push their luck, is all speculation. Ultimately, we don't know exactly why he chooses to pass on the third wave attack, nor what its outcome might have been. Meanwhile, Pearl Harbor

deals with the aftermath as the day wears on. Thick black plumes of smoke rise from the harbor's burning ships, and even the water itself as oil leaking from bomb-damaged holes feed dancing patches of fire on the surface. Torn metal, splintered wood, and broken parts of aircraft are everywhere. And through all of this, firefighters and sailors attempted to fight the flames, while salvage teams, Navy yard workers, and divers, waste no time trying to save damaged and even sunken ships. Oahu's airfields aren't much better. At Hickham and Wheeler Fields,

hangers are shattered. And, as we heard from Phil Rasmussen, many of the aircraft are destroyed or in the process of burning past the point of saving. Wounded personnel lie on the ground, writhing in pain as they impatiently wait for the overwhelmed medics, already doing all they possibly can. First Lieutenant Annie G. Fox is the head nurse at Hickham Field's Station Hospital. Annie only has a team of six nurses and 30 beds, but neither those limitations

nor the low-flying Japanese aircraft have stopped the 47-year-old medical professional and her nurses from leaping into action amid the attack. And make no mistake, being in a hospital during the attack does not mean you're safe from enemy bombs. Indeed, one Japanese bomb fell right across the street from Annie's small hospital, while another exploded only 20 feet away from the building, leaving a massive 30-foot crater in its wake. But the attack's end doesn't bring any reprieve to Annie. Assisting doctors in surgery and coordinating triage plans for everything from shrapnel wounds to severe burns and shock,

the head nurse and her team barely have time to give out pain medicine before they shepherd soldiers to the nearby larger and therefore better equipped Tripler Hospital. More help comes, however, as the wives of officers and NCOs, as well as ordinary civilians, hurry to the aid of suffering soldiers. Annie will receive the Purple Heart for her actions today. However, when the criteria for the Purple Heart gets changed in 1942, she'll be reassigned to a bronze star.

And of course, Annie isn't the only nurse who goes above and beyond during the Japanese attack. Of the 82 Army nurses stationed across three facilities in Hawaii, four more receive official commendations for their, quote, fidelity and essential service, close quote. And I'd imagine the others deserve serious recognition too. But as the day wears on, the mood across the island is tense and fearful. Civilians and service members alike feel a deep shock. Pearl Harbor, which just hours ago stood as a symbol of American naval strength,

now lies broken and smoldering. And the casualties are catastrophic. Across Oahu, U.S. losses total. Four sunken battleships. with four severely damaged. A dozen or so vessels pretty solidly wrecked, including the sunken former battleship turned to target ship, Utah. Some 300 mangled or destroyed aircraft, 2,335 military deaths,

and 68 civilian deaths, coming to a total of 2,403 dead, as well as nearly 1,200 injured. Thank goodness, aircraft carriers, USS Lexington, and Enterprise, are currently out on missions in the Pacific. and USS Saratoga is on the West Coast, where she's just finishing an overhaul. The survival of these three aircraft carriers will mean everything as the Pacific Fleet tries to bounce back. By evening, Oahu will be under a curfew as a precaution against the possibility of yet another attack. But again, another attack is not coming. Well, not to Pearl Harbor,

that is. Even as the world learns of the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor, Japan has more strikes planned across the Pacific. Bombers and fighters lift off from newly constructed airfields in its conquered territories of the Marshall Islands, Indochina, and Formosa, or Taiwan, as you and I will later know it. From the Marshall Islands, the Japanese are headed to one of the most remote outposts in the world. A full 2,000 miles from Tokyo. in the middle of the Pacific's shark-infested cobalt blue waters, a small treeless way station known as Wake Island.

From Indo-China, they're headed to British-held outposts in Malaya, Burma, and Hong Kong. And from Formosa, the target is the American Commonwealth Territory of the Philippines, where the commander of the U.S. Army's Far East Command, General Douglas MacArthur, has his headquarters. Yes, we know this Great War hero of the Rainbow Division well from many past episodes, And even as Hawaii still smolders, he, too, has to contend with a Japanese attack that doesn't go well for the Americans. It's 4 in the morning, December 8th, 1941. Luzon Island, Philippines time.

Because of the international dateline, it's currently 10 in the morning in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, meaning the second wave and attack there has only just concluded. And that's precisely why, the dark but thinning-haired aviation commander for the Philippines, Major General Lewis Brereton finds himself waking up to the phone ringing at this early hour. He has Lieutenant Colonel Charles Caldwell answer. He then asks the officer, what is it, Charlie? General, Pearl Harbor's been bombed. Grabbing the phone, Lewis hears the voice of General Richard Sutherland, who tells the barely awake aviation commander that they're now in a state of war.

As General Lewis Brereton snaps into action, he's processing what is both surprising and not surprising news. Things in the Philippines have been tense. Just yesterday, rumor had it that the Japanese sent a message to Washington that negotiations were over. But an attack? And in Hawaii instead of here in the Philippines. The thin-haired general gets down to business quickly,

ordering that all air units be notified of the attack, and immediately prepare for action. He then leaves his headquarters at Nielsen Field to report to his superior, General Douglas MacArthur. It's now about five in the morning. Hastily dressed Lewis arrives breathless at Douglas MacArthur's headquarters at Fort Santiago, Manila. Doug is well aware of the situation.

He got his own wake-up call at around three in the morning. General Richard Sutherland, the same who rang Lewis at 4 a.m., informs him that Doug's in a meeting. Not willing to waste any time, the aviation commander requests permission for an immediate attack on the island of Japanese health Formosa, again later to be known as Taiwan.

Of course, the final go-ahead has to come from the top, from Doug himself, but Lewis is instructed to get his planes ready for combat. Back at Nielsen Field, Lewis's men are frustrated that they can't strike as they wait for final approval. But the pilots and crew prepare the planes, as ordered. B-17s and P-40s at nearby Clark Field are now in position.

Nerves are heightened, especially as rumors swirled Japanese planes coming right for their airfield. Pilots are anxious to be wheels up. It's been over an hour. What's taking Doug so long to give the order? Finally, at 11 a.m., General Richard Sutherland calls. Lewis's bombing mission is a go. But it's too late. With planes on the ground lined up like sitting ducks waiting for pilots in fueling. The Japanese arrive at 12.13 p.m. Their strafing machine gun fire sends men running as exploding bombs blow Clark Field to Kingdom Come. Zeros fly in at roof height, in tight three plane formations, finishing off any targets that aren't on fire. These attacks destroy a full half of the Philippines flying defenses and completely destroy hopes for

counterstrikes. There's no easy way of putting this. It's a disaster. No one is quite sure what led to this failure in the Philippines. What kept Doug from responding for so long? Was this a communications line issue with General Richard Sutherland keeping vital information from the boss? He does have a reputation for overstepping in this regard, with some generals and admirals complaining that it's virtually impossible to see Doug without Richard say so. Even if this is the case, Doug was well aware of Pearl Harbor.

So why did it take him so long to give the go ahead? Later information will suggest that he may have waited believing that the Philippines' neutral status as a U.S. Commonwealth offered some protection from a Japanese attack, or that he thought he had to wait for an actual attack before he could respond, or even that Doug's close friend, Philippine President Manuel Kaysan, told him to hold off. Doug himself says he was never informed of a plan to attack Formosa, and that because the Navy was so damaged at Pearl, the Philippine air arm lacked supplies of munitions. To quote him, our sky defense died with our battleships. Whatever the reason, the effect is the same. The American forces are in ruins, along with those other areas across the Pacific that the Japanese attacked. On the other side of the dateline, back in Washington, where it's now about midnight as December 7th fades into December 8th, President Franklin Roosevelt is incredibly frustrated. As he discusses the just-ended attack in the Philippines with famed radio reporter Edward R. Murrow,

the president slams his fist on the table, yelling. They caught our planes on the ground. On the ground! But that could probably go for Pearl Harbor, too. Franklin needs to speak to Congress, not to mention the nation, as soon as possible. Hours earlier, just before five in the afternoon of December 7th, he summoned his secretary, Grace Tolley. With Eleanor, just down the hall busily reworking what she would say this very same evening on her weekly radio broadcast, Grace typed as Franklin dictated the first draft of what will

soon become yet another of his famous speeches, one that, frankly, will go down as one of the greatest orations of the 20th century. Quite intentionally, he opts for brevity rather than a long-winded diplomatic or policy speech. Maybe he's taking a page from Abraham Lincoln's Gettysburg address, short to the point. and deeply moving. Whatever his inspiration, it's working, as is FDR. Come the morning of December 8th, he continues to pour himself into his speech,

making handwritten revisions on Grace's typed copy. New sentences get added as more information arrives. He knows the Japanese attacks on other Pacific territories, like Guam, the Philippines, Wake Island, and Midway. He spends quite a bit of time on his opening line, as well he should. The introduction of any written work is arguably the most important. It's the hook.

He's trying a few things out. A date which will live in world history. No, not quite right. Simultaneously attacked becomes suddenly and deliberately attacked. In one version, without warning, is tossed in. Later, it's stricken out. By late morning, Franklin is still painstakingly reviewing and refining. his reading copy, making even more handwritten alterations.

He practices it, knowing that this message, brief, direct, and forceful, must galvanize a shocked, morning, and soon to be catapulted into a war nation and the wider world. Then finally, he's ready, and just in time. It's 12.29 p.m. We're in Washington, D.C., at the U.S. Capitol Building, where President Franklin D. Roosevelt is just setting foot in the house chamber. He leans on his oldest son, Marine Captain James Roosevelt, as he swings one pained, grace held the leg after the other. This isn't the first time many here have watched,

with admiration as Franklin, unwilling to allow the presidency to be defined by his own physical incapacities, has insisted on defying nature's cruel inflictions on his mortal flesh by walking. But God, his labored, unyielding steps take a special meaning today. As America reels over such an unexpected crippling at Pearl Harbor, there's something oddly comforting. And this reminder that the man at the nation's helm right now is no stranger to feeling cut down unexpectedly.

And more than that, he isn't one to accept such defeat. As FDR reaches the speaker's platform, the crowded room cheers and applauds, he takes in the packed gallery. His cabinet, nine Supreme Court justice, 82 senators, 389 representatives, with the few absent members of Congress rushing back to Washington after hearing yesterday's news. He sees his wife, Eleanor, sitting beside his professorial predecessor's widow, Edith Wilson. This will be the second time that Edith has heard a

president call for war from this podium, and it's not lost on the current First Lady how she reflects Edith of 25 years ago in this moment. As Eleanor will later write, she feels a curious sense of repetition in Edith's presence. Finally, Speaker of the House, Sam Rayburn, declares, Senators and representatives, I have the distinguished honor of presenting the President of the United States. Again, the chamber erupts. And once they quiet down, Franklin,

after making the usual acknowledgement of federal dignitaries, opens his speech with what will become, one of the most famous sentences ever uttered by an American. Mr. Vice President, Mr. Speaker, members of the Senate, of the House of Representatives, yesterday, December 7th, 1941, a date which will live in infamy, the United States of America, was suddenly and deliberately attuned. by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan. FDR continues on, reminding his listeners that America and Japan had been.

In conversation with its government and its emperor, looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific. He informs them that the Japanese ambassador only addressed the Secretary of State after, not before the attack began. and even then did not offer a formal declaration of war. This was indeed a deliberate surprise attack then, or, as Franklin puts it, The Japanese government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States. And with Japan's secretive hostilities explained, FDR broadly explains the extent of its offensive, which includes Pearl Harbor, yes, but far more.

The attack yesterday on the Hawaii. Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu. Yesterday, the Japanese government also launched an attack against Malaya. Last night, Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong. Last night, Japanese forces attacked Guam.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands. last night the Japanese attacked Wake Island and this morning the Japanese attacked Midway Island And so, given this surprise offensive, this premeditated invasion FDR knowing that this places all of America's isolationist inclinations underfoot asks Congress to defend the American people to declare war hostilities exist

there is no blinking at the fact that our people our territory and our interests are in grave danger with confidence in our armed forces with the unbounding

determination of our people we will gain the inevitable triumph, so help us God. I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7th, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire. History That Doesn't Suck is created and hosted by me, Greg Jackson. Episode Research and Written by Greg Jackson, Riley Newbauer, and Will King.

Production by Airship. Audio editing by Muhammad Chazade. Sound design by Molly Bach. Theme music composed by Greg Jackson. Arrangement and additional composition by Lindsay Graham of Ayrshire. For bibliography of all primary and secondary sources consulted in writing this episode, visit htdDSpodcast.com. H.TDS is supported by fans at htbspodcast.com slash membership.

My gratitude to you, kind souls providing funding to help us keep going. Thank you. And it's special thanks to our patrons whose monthly gift puts them at producer status. Amad Chapman, Andrew Nissen, Art Lane, Autumn Wyland, Bob Stinnett, Bonnie Brooks, Brian Goodson, Bruce Hibbert, Charles Plandinian, Charlie Majes, Christopher Merchant, Christopher Bishop, Christopher Pullman, Cindy Rosenpaw, Colleen Martin, Connor Hogan, Dan G, Darren Chambers, David Kneebrush, David Rifkin, Durante Spencer, Donald Moore, Eli Edwards, Elizabeth Christ Janssen, Ellen Stewart, Ernie Lomaster, G203, Jeffrey Nelson, George J. Sherwick, Gareth, Henry Brunchess, Polly Hamilton,

Jake Gilbert, James Bledsoe, James Blue, James Schlender, Jarrett Zongora, Jeff Dempsey, Jeffrey Moots, Jennifer Ruth, Jeremy Wells, Jessica Poppin, Joe Dobis, John Bruelly, John Frugal, John Fugge, John Messemer, John Oliveros, John R., John Schaeff, Joshua Steiner, J.P. Brooks, Justin May, Justin Spriggs, Karen Bartholney, Carl and Elizabeth Salmon, Carl Friedman, Carl Hindle, Ken Culver, Kim R, Kim R, Christian Pratt, Kyle Decker, El Paul Goring, Laura Norman, Lawrence Newbauer, Linda Cunningham, Mark Ellis, Marsha Smith, Matt Siegel, Micah, Michael Sullivan, Nate Seconder, Nick Capprell, Owen Sedg, Patrick Day, Peter Huguenrodham, Rick Brown, Rob Drazovich, Sam Holtz, Sarah Prescott, Sarah Traywick, Shannon Hoagham, Sharon Theson Theson, Stacey Ritter, Steve Williams, The Creepy Girl, Thomas Churchill, Thomas Matthew Edwards, Thomas, Thomas Matthew Edwards, Thomas Saber, Tim and Sarah Turner, Todd Curran, Tom Bostofa, Leslie McKee, Zach Green, and Zach Jackson. Join me in two weeks, or I'd like to tell you a story.