Welcome sign to a place of tremendous sadness and pride.
In general I like to think that I am a fairly capable communicator. Its rare that I stumble to find the right words to convey what I am thinking or feeling. Today, and even now in retrospect, I am truly unable to express what I saw and felt.
Today we visited Pearl Harbor and toured the monument dedicated to the USS Arizona and then went to the “Cemetery of the Pacific.”
I could never have prepared myself for what I saw or felt at Pearl Harbor. Sure I know the story, I’ve read books, seen movies, but this was different. There was such a somber tone to the place that it was eerie. There are two museums and film that you experience prior to making the boat ride out to the USS Arizona. I had no idea the boat was the actual monument. The white structure above the water is actually sitting on top of the ship, and the men who are buried there.
A view back to the “mainland” from over the hull of the Arizona.
While standing on the monument, looking down at the water, you can’t help but notice oil bubbling up from below. The oil is a constant leak from the USS Arizona that creates a constant sheen on the water. In the photos below, using an adjustable filter I happened to have on my camera (because no bags are allowed at the site), I was able to capture two pictures of the same spot. The first shows the oil, the second shows the sheen. I was absolutely mesmerized, and couldn’t help but be overcome by the gravity of the situation. That the oil is referred to as “black tears” didn’t help matters any.
The kids were observant of the past, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more. For a few minutes Chloe was no longer concerned about tsunamis and shifted her fear toward a Japanese invasion.
When the girls looked at the wall which listed the names and ranks of all the men who died on the Arizona, they were clearly moved. I asked each of them to pick one name, and make sure to include that person in their prayers before bed. Rylie wanted to know what she should do if she couldn’t remember the name, so I told her to “pray for all of them.” I picked a name too, and it won’t be one I soon forget. While I know nothing about the man, I know enough to respect and admire his service to our country and to thank him for his sacrifice.
Looking up at the monument at the Cemetery of the Pacific.
From Pearl Harbor we went to the “Cemetery of the Pacific” which is a National Monument to the men who went missing in the Pacific Theater. Originally it was built for World War II, but it extended to Korea and Vietnam as well. There were massive tiles on the walls depicting timelines and details of the wars on each island, their significance, and the result. I was truly amazed.
Speaking from my experience, and minus Vietnam, I was never taught anything formally about the wars our country fought in the Pacific Theater. There were conflicts depicted on the walls which I never knew existed. Over the years I have learned about our role in the South Pacific during the 1940’s, and I can only imagine that the lack of formal teaching about the events is intentional. Some of those battles were not our finest moments.
However, as someone who has a particular affinity for supporting our Veterans, I am sensitive to the POW-MIA cause. This was one of the only places where I have seen our government embrace and acknowledge the missing with the flag which has become so iconic.
Flags flying at the monument.
American forces faced particularly voracious enemies in the Pacific, and the events were of global significance. I was surprised to learn that the Pearl Harbor monument made no mention of Japanese internment camps or the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I also noticed that the documentary detailing the events leading up to the bombing at Pearl Harbor was sponsored by three of the United States’ most significant defense contractors (Northrup Grumman, Boeing, and General Dynamics). I’m not crying coverup or conspiracy, just that the monument didn’t tell the whole story, and as a nation I don’t think we do enough to pass along the stories of the people who fought in these wars. I can only hope to learn enough to pass the knowledge on to my children.
So maybe I have one more hope, and that is that our children never see a day like Pearl Harbor. Or 9/11. Or any of days in between which carried events where one nation violently exerted itself on another. The faces of innocence are just as moving as the stories of those who passed. Neither should ever be forgotten.
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