I didn't care very much for school in those days. I figured that I could get my education by absorption. Send my brother to school and when he came home I would absorb it from him. Not a bad idea, if only I could get away with it.
The school I attended was located on a Naval Air Station a few miles from the base where I lived. It was pretty exciting to see the fighter aircraft taking off and landing. One of the teachers I had was a native Hawaiian. She was a good teacher, but had one annoying habit. She always pronounced "th" as "th" in "those". You may be wondering what is wrong with that. There is nothing wrong, except when the "h" is supposed to be silent in some cases. In my class there were three boys with the same first name. Their name was "Thomas". In order to avoid confusion, Miss Wong said we had to call each of them by a different form of Thomas. That was fine when it came to Tommy and Tom, but Miss Wong insisted that "Thomas" was pronounced "THomas"; sounding out the "th" sound.
"THomas, come to the board and write that problem," Miss Wong said.
"Miss Wong, the "h" is silent. It is pronounced 'Tomas'," Thomas said.
"Don't you correct me young man! I'm the teacher and I know."
The whole year the Thomas’s fought with her over the pronunciation of their name. I was certainly glad I wasn't one of them. I had enough problems of my own without worrying about my name. I was always tall for my age but rather thin. Skinny would be the word for it, I suppose. Other kids liked to pick fights with me because of my height so they could look tough when they beat up the taller kid. I also didn't like to fight much because punches, both giving and taking, could hurt. I also had a very violent temper that once inflamed was hard to extinguish.
I liked to participate in almost any type of sports. My favorite ones were baseball and football. I would give my all to playing the game. I was one of the first ones chosen when picking teams because of me aggressiveness not necessarily my ability. One day we were going to play football during recess. The captains were chosen and they began to pick.
"I'll take Tommy," the first captain said.
"I'll take Mike," said the second one.
"Tom."
"Jim."
On went the ritual of picking the best ones first. The ones who got picked last were the ones who didn't play very well. Worse than not being picked until last was when the captains forgot your name and called out, "Him".
Picking sports teams by children can be the cruelest experience for a child. The pain of waiting to be picked is excruciating. One cannot image the flood of relief felt when you are at last picked but not the last one picked.
This day was much like any other, except that it had rained most of the morning. It was just clearing up when the bell for recess rang. With shouts of joy, we went screaming onto the playing field. The field, predictably, was very muddy and slippery. The boys took their places on the field; ready for the kickoff. The girls took their places by the sidelines; ready to cheer their favorite team on to victory.
The ball was placed on the tee. The kicker gauged the distance, ran toward the ball at full speed, and kicked the ball to the team I was on. The ball floated lazily toward me for what seemed like forever. At last it came down into my arms. I took off like a galloping antelope. I sprinted as fast as I could right into the oncoming rush from the other team. They piled on me and down I went, face first into the mud. It oozed around my face and ran into my eyes, ears and mouth. I came up sputtering and shaking my head to clear the mud from my eyes.
“Hey, that wasn’t called for,” I gasped.
“Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it," the other team taunted.
"Just don't do it again," I said. I was hoping to avoid a confrontation.
The ball was hiked to the quarterback. He handed off to the halfback. He ran straight into the middle of the line for no gain. We tried again. The quarterback went back for a pass and threw it toward me. It was sailing a little high so I leapt as high as I could. Just as the ball grazed my fingertips, I felt the defender hit my legs. The next thing I knew, I was flying through the air heels over head. I had no control over my body at all. I carne down with a sickening thud right on my head and shoulders. I was furious now.
"Who did that? I want a penalty. He hit me before the ball got there."
"No I didn't. I hit you fair and square."
"No you didn't. That was pass interference."
"No it wasn't."
The defender then pushed me. That was all it took. I carne up swinging my fists for all I was worth. I don't know who I hit or even if I hit anyone at all. I was blind with fury. It took almost my whole team to get me down so I wasn't throwing punches anymore. By that time the noise and commotion had attracted the principal.
"What's going on here?" he asked.
"He started it," I pouted.
"No I didn't. He did."
“Both of you come with me to my office. We will straighten this out in my office. The rest of you get cleaned up and go back to class. Recess is over for today."
He marched us off to his office. He had me by my left arm; the other kid by his right arm. The principal was not very gentle about it either. He pinched our arms until they tingled. The fight had gone out of both of us by this time. We knew we were in big trouble. We just wanted to go back to class.
"Now, let's see if we can get this straightened out. What happened out there? Mike, you go first. Each of you will get his chance to speak."
"Well, he pushed me when I was trying to catch a pass."
"No I didn't," the other kid said. I didn't even know his name.
"Yes you did!"
"Whoa now, I told you each would have your turn," said Mr. Glass.
"Any way, I wanted a penalty called because I could have caught the pass and my team would have won."
"Tony, what do you have to say about this?"
"Mr. Glass, his team was playing dirty all day and I hit him fair and square. I got to him just as the ball got there. I didn’t interfere with him. Besides, he called me a name.”
“What?!” I shouted! “I did not!”
“You called me a wimp! I ain’t no wimp!”
“Well, from what I can tell, you both are to blame. I’m going to settle this by putting you both in detention for the rest of the week. You may both go back to class now.”
We headed out the door, thankful that we hadn't been suspended. Just as I reached the door, Mr. Glass called me back into his office.
"Mike, I'm extremely disappointed in you. You are at least a head taller than Tony. And you are older by two years. Take it easy on him."
"Yes sir," I said. "Mr. Glass?"
"Yes, Mike, what is it?"
"Mr. Glass, how do I handle being taller than most of the kids here? I get picked on all the time."
"Don't worry Mike; you'll grow out of it. Oops, that probably wasn't a good word to use, but you'll see that eventually they will start to catch up to you. Enjoy your childhood while you can. The trouble with childhood is you grow up."
Detention was possibly the worst thing to happen to me in my short life. At least, I thought so at the time. I couldn't talk. I couldn't look around. In fact, I wasn't allowed to do anything except my school work. When I finished with what work I had been given by my teacher, I had to read a book and write a report on it. What a bore! The biggest torture I felt was not being able to go out to recess and play.
I could hear the shouts of glee and the other sounds of children playing and having a good time. I longed to be there with them. Since I had to be in detention because of that stupid fight with Tony, I decided I might as well make the best of it. I quickly finished my work so that I could pretend that I was reading my library book. There must be a conspiracy. As I sat "reading", something happened to me. I was beginning to get interested in the book. I don't remember a more enjoyable .time. I became an avid reader. I read almost anything I could get my hands on. I especially enjoyed biographies of sports personalities. Other books held my attention too. I enjoyed adventure stories, spy tales, and fantasies, but I didn’t like romance novels at all. Sometimes while reading, I would find myself daydreaming about the book. I actually became part of the story. However, one day my mind took a strange turn. I was daydreaming, as usual. This time, instead of thinking about the book, I found that I was reminiscing about a story that Sam had told me several months ago. It was about the bombing of Pearl Harbor.
As I recall, Sam had just caught Randy and me at the abandoned hospital. He was telling us about being in the raid the morning that Pearl Harbor was bombed by the Japanese. He had just swum ashore after his ship was blown up by a bomb.
"After reaching 'Battleship Row', the full impact of what was happening struck me like a ton of bricks. The Japanese were actually attacking the Navy. From the looks of it, they were doing a pretty good job of destroying the best naval force in the world. Smoke filled the air. Screams of the 'wounded and dying' pelted against my ears. I felt utterly hopeless. There seemed to be nowhere to turn, nowhere to go, and nothing to do."
"Chief!" called a voice.
I turn to see a Lieutenant calling me.
"Yes Sir?" I answered.
"Where are you from?"
"Sir, I'm from the frigate, The Bostonian. The one that just went down out there," I pointed.
"Come with me. I need all the help I can get," he ordered.
"Right away, Sir."
We went a short distance to a building that I knew was an armory. We entered the building. It was dark inside because the electricity had been knocked out by the bombing raid.
"¢&%$#$%¢&*(! "
"Sir, are you alright?" I asked.
"Yes, Chief. I'm fine. I just banged into this gun rack. Let's break open these rifle cases and get some rifles. Be sure to get ammunition also."
"Yes Sir." I didn't see what good small arms would do at a time like this, but he was an officer. I was trained to respond to any order, even though it seemed ridiculous. 'I soon found out what the Lieutenant intended to do.
"Come on, Chief. Let's go," the Lieutenant ordered.
"Yes Sir," I replied.
After picking up several rifles and cases of ammunition, I followed the Lieutenant outside and up some stairs to the top of the building. The Japanese planes were still buzzing around like flies. Some of them were flying so low and slow that I could see the pilots.
"Shoot for the pilots," the Lieutenant suddenly ordered.
"Yes Sir," I said as I took aim. I knew he was crazy now.
The Lieutenant was firing wildly at anything close by. I was afraid he was going to shoot me by accident. I took aim at the next Zero that came near. I squeezed the trigger slowly, certain I was just as crazy as the Lieutenant. BANG! The rifle went off in a spray of smoke and flame as the bullet left the muzzle. I had time to see the surprised look on the pilot's face as his plane flew slowly by me. The right wing tip, almost imperceptibly dipped toward the ground. I realized at that time that I had shot the pilot. Almost as suddenly as the realization came into my mind, the plane's wing tip struck a telephone pole. The plane burst into flames and lazily fell the rest of the way to the ground.
I didn't have time to react right then. Another Zero appeared in my gun sights. This time, the pilot was firing his machine guns at me. I had barely enough time to dive for cover. The bullets crashed into the building where I had been standing with sickening thuds. I thought I was dead. When I realized I was still alive, I took aim again. This time I missed.
Several more Zeroes swooped down out of the sky, bearing down on our building. Evidently one of the other pilots radioed our position. I raised my rifle slowly and aimed again. Another burst of machine gun fire sent me scurrying for cover. This went on for several moments, until I was at last able to get off another shot. This one hit the Zero just below the cockpit and slightly to the front. The bullet must have hit a fuel line. Instantly the Zero was engulfed with flames. I saw the cockpit slide back as the pilot tried to escape. It was too late. The plane exploded into a ball of fire; raining burning pieces down around us. The building was now ablaze. The Lieutenant and I made our way down the ground just before another Zero crashed into the building. It had been hit by anti-aircraft fire.
Soon other men on the ground followed our lead. Sounds of small arms fire soon filled the air. It was better than the sounds of confusion. There still wasn't much co-ordination. At least something was being done. The Japanese would know that Americans did not just give up. Gun turrets that were undamaged started to whir into action. Shortly the guns themselves were adding to our fire power. More and more of the Zeroes started to fall from the sky. The ones that were still flying ran out of bombs but had plenty of cannon shells and machine guns power to send us scurrying for cover on several occasions.
Suddenly from out of the north-east, came the drone of more aircraft. I felt sick. Another wave of Japanese planes was coming in to take up the attack again. Something was strange, though. The other wave had come in from the south-west. Then these planes must be ours from Hickham field. The Japanese hadn't destroyed all of our planes! It was a heavenly sound to hear our P-51 Mustangs screaming into to defend us!
The dogfights were sensational! Our boys swooped in from the north-east and started blasting away at the remaining Japanese Zeroes. There weren't many left. When our planes were spotted, the Japanese turned back out to sea.
"Mike!" yelled the detention teacher. My reverie was broken and I nearly fell out of my chair.
"Yes Sir?" I asked meekly.
"Didn't you hear the bell? It's time to go home."
"No Sir. I guess I was sort of daydreaming."
"Well, if you are caught daydreaming again tomorrow, I'll add another day to your detention."
"Yes Sir, it won't happen again."
I ran out of the room so fast my feet barely touched the ground. I ran to catch the bus. Just as I was rounding the corner, I ran right into the principal!
"Slow down, Son. You may hurt someone." He didn't recognize me at first. I thought everything would be all right.
"Wait a minute. Aren't you Mike, the one who had the fight last week?"
"Yes sir." Oh brother, I'm in trouble now.
"Have you learned your lesson yet?"
"Yes sir."
“Are you going to fight any more in my school?”
“No Sir. Sir? I have to catch my bus.”
“Why are you so late coming out of the building?”
“I was daydreaming in class.”
"You had better learn to keep your mind on things in that case."
"Yes sir. I will do that. I've got to be going now."
"OK Mike, but take it easy."
I got out of there as fast as I could without running. I didn't want to risk him stopping me again. Luckily the bus driver waited for me. He was used to me being a little late getting to the bus. There was a little store across the street from the school that I would go to whenever I had a little money left over from lunch. The store had a separate counter that had every kind of penny candy imaginable on it. I think the owner of the store planned it that way so the school kids would come and spend their lunch money on candy. His plan worked! This day, however, I didn't have time to go over there. As soon as I boarded the bus, we started for home.