It was a typical sunny Hawaiian morning. Joan Kowalski sipped black coffee while she skimmed the thick Sunday Honolulu Times. She was casually dressed in slacks and a blouse. An ignored cigarette burned in an ashtray at her elbow. The cigarette produced a trail of blue smoke that waved and curled in the gentle breeze from the open windows. Joan folded the newspaper expertly as she skipped to the jump page to finish an article. Across the enameled kitchen table Paula Jones wore her nightgown and a robe as she absently stirred sugar into her coffee cup while reading a page in a novel. She was hunched forward in concentration. Neither woman spoke. Music played softly on the radio.
Alice Daughtry walked sleepily into the kitchen and headed straight towards the coffee pot on the stove. “Morning kids,” she mumbled. She was wearing silk pajamas that fit tightly across her large breasts. Alice yawned open-mouthed and stretched her arms above her head. Her top crept up, briefly exposing her flat stomach and navel. Alice rotated her head on her shoulders. Her brown hair was still sleep-tousled. She lit a Lucky Strike and reached for a coffee cup.
The roar of airplanes droned in the distance. Alice cocked her head and stared at the ceiling. “Sounds like the flyboys are at it early this morning.” She filled her cup from the metal percolator. “Edna gets off at eight, I better make another pot of coffee. You know how she is after working the overnight shift.” Edna Faber was their fourth roommate. Alice walked over to the table and poured the last of the pot into Joan and Paula’s cups.
“Huh, those planes seem pretty low,” Paula said. “There is a bunch of them.” She turned towards Alice, “You got in late last night Alice.”
Alice smiled and started to speak when her reply was cut off by distant popping sounds and what sounded like fireworks. “What the heck?” Alice exclaimed. She set the empty pot on the counter.
Joan walked outside barefoot followed by her roommates. Planes circled the distant harbor like flies at a picnic. She could see spurts of smoke and fire to the left around Hickam and more around Ford Island in the middle of Pearl Harbor. The air raid siren up the hill began to wail.
All three women looked at the distant base in awe. None thought to move despite the noise from the sirens blaring throughout Honolulu. The volume of noise grew. Puffs of smoke dotted the air from what Joan supposed were anti-aircraft guns. These made a lighter pop in the sky compared to the deeper thud of the bombs and larger boom of explosions as the torpedoes and bombs began to hit their targets. A buzz of machine guns was barely heard above the cacophony of explosions and the constant howl of the siren.
The planes circled and dove in succession. The three nurses stood frozen in the yard. Suddenly there was a loud explosion, and a black spout of smoke and flame roiled from the harbor. “We are under attack!” Paula shouted. Her words woke something in Joan and called her to action. She sprinted into the house and pulled on some shoes. Joan immediately started jogging towards the hospital. Paula watched her go and headed into the house to pull on her uniform. Alice asked where she was going.
“To the hospital, Alice. There are bound to be casualties.”
“But you are not on duty.” Alice whined. Paula gave her a withering look and followed in Joan’s wake.
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