The Cleanup

The expected air raids and invasion of ground troops on December 8 did not materialize. Now started long hard days of burying the dead, caring for the wounded, cleaning up the broken ships, the damaged buildings, docks and airfields. The work week became a grueling seven days filled with twelve hour shifts to tackle the monumental task.

The next morning there was no raid much to everyone's relief, but also there was no breakfast. The cafeterias were contracted out and the people who ran them couldn’t get in to prepare the food. It was sometime late in the day before the cafeteria opened and we got another meal.

We were sent out in trucks to help recover the dead and injured. I was on one of the trucks picking up the dead. We were stacking them on there like you would stack hay in a hayrack. We had quite a load by the time we got down to the other end of the shipyard. All morning, every hour or so, air raid sirens would go off whenever a plane was spotted in fear the Japanese were launching another attack. We had ten of those alarms that day. They were expecting to have the Japanese infantry land. The Japanese made a big mistake as they could have driven right on in the front gate we were so vulnerable.

The remainder of that week I was working down in the drydock cleaning up all that mess from the ships that had burned. There was about two feet of water, oil and sludge down in the bottom. Even after they drained it, it was still an awful mess. The ships had been blown all to pieces and were just like crushed beer cans. They couldn’t get any machinery down in there, so we took 50 gallon barrels and used scoop shovels. All those dead bodies and stuff that had been blown out of the ships. You didn’t know if you were picking up someone’s leg or a ham from one of the ships.

Several days later I saw a notice posted at the shop for divers and helpers. I didn’t sign up right away, but continued to work down in the drydock where the rapid deterioration of bodies and meat caused by the tropical heat was making it almost intolerable. I finally decided to sign up for the diving crew, but found they only needed five men and so many had signed up the lead diver was going to pick his own men. So I went back down into the drydock and started shoveling.

Later that same day, my foreman called me up out of the drydock and told me to report to the lead diver (Gottschalk). He asked if I would be interested in being a diver. I replied, "Is it any dirtier than this?"

He laughed and said, "It could be!" I wondered what made him notice me down in all that muck with all those other men, but told him I would give it a try. I was told to report to the dive lockers and get cleaned up. Take a shower, shave and get some clean coveralls and wait there, as he would be down shortly.

That was my first shower since the day of the attack. We had no running water at the barracks and had been washing the best we could with a little cold water. I had grease in my hair and hadn’t shaved in all those days. I was just an awful looking mess. After I got cleaned up, I checked out all the equipment and looked over all the dive gear and hats. I wondered to myself, "What in the world would you do in one of those things?"

The lead man picked me up with a small boat and took me over to the U.S.S. California which was sunk on the other side of the bay. On the way across he explained that I would be pumping air for a few days until barges equipped for diving with motors and air compressors could be prepared for our use. My diver would be training me in the meantime whenever he had some stand by time. The air pump being used was one of the old two-man type with the large wheel on each side. With the diver down it had to be pumped constantly. You couldn’t even stop long enough to light a cigarette. The minute you stopped, your diver was out of air. So I pumped air.

As it turned out, I pumped air for several days and had about 15 minutes training. After several days of pumping air, my diver told me to get suited up and he would teach me to dive. Well, I went down all right, but came back up upside down. I had blood running out of my ears. I was just getting undressed when the lead man came up and said, "Well, I am glad to see you have learned to dive. I have a man here to take your place on the pump and I want you to come with me."

We loaded into his little boat and on the way across, he asked, "Do you think you can dive now?"

I replied, "Well, I suppose I can." I hated to admit that I had been down only the one time and upside down to boot!

We went back to the dive locker and got my gear ready for the next day. We were using the Navy Mark V gear. The next morning, we went down to the marine railway. This was a track similar to a railroad track, but built on cement pilings and used to bring a ship into drydock for repairs. It was used for the submarines and small destroyers, but had been damaged when keel blocks were not set correctly causing a ship to tip over. Because of the size of the newer submarines and the start of the war, it was decided to build a larger marine drydock rather than trying to repair the old one. The old pilings and track had to be removed before the new construction began.

I was using a 90-pound air buster with extra weight belts to hold me down. I must have had on about 300 pounds of gear. After working down there for a couple of weeks, I could see we just weren’t getting anywhere as the cement was so hard you just couldn’t bust it up. I happened to see the plans for the new drydock and noticed the new rail would be higher and six to seven feet farther out than the old rail. I pointed this out to the lead man. "Les," he said, "the first thing you will learn. You never tell the Navy how to do anything."

We continued working every day, twelve hour days. That air buster was just jarring me to pieces. Even with the extra weight belt, you would just lay with your stomach across that thing and couldn’t bust off a piece of cement much bigger then your hand. I was working with another diver and I had managed to clear about 40 feet on my side of the rail, but he wasn’t even that far along.

I was so sore all over I could hardly move. I decided I would have to quit, as I couldn’t take much more. I went in to see the lead man that night after work, but he was out of the office, so the next morning I dressed-in and went down. I had only been down a few minutes when my tender told me the lead man wanted me to come up and report to the office. He said, "Well, Les, you were right. That old cement doesn’t have to be taken out and we are going to go ahead and pour the new cement. The Navy has decided they can build the new track right over the old one."

We talked for a bit and he could see that I was about done in. He said, "Les get some rest first. Just go back in the office, lay down on the cot and take a nap. You look like you are about to cave in."

"Well, I am," I replied. I slept until six that evening. After a couple of days I got so I could handle myself again.

Anyway, that's how I came to be a diver. I don’t think I could have had a job that was any harder. It would just shake the living daylights out of you. If I had false teeth, they would have been laying down in my diving suit as there would have been no way I could have kept them in my mouth.

Next we were sent to the U.S.S. California. They were building cofferdams trying to seal off some of the holes in the ship so they could get it into the drydock. I was to survey the damage on the port side and look for cracks in the hull. I didn’t find any cracks but did find where some rivets had popped out. A cofferdam was built at that spot to keep the water out.

Occasionally they would send me over to the Navy Yard on a salvage job. One day I was sent to locate a crane that had tipped over and fell into the harbor. The lieutenant in charge said it wouldn’t be a big job, just drop straight down, hook a cable onto it and they would pull it up. I spent the day probing in the silt with a piece of re-bar, but wasn’t having any luck finding the crane. When my lead man came over, he told me not to expect the crane to be straight down that it was probably out quite a way. After six or seven days, I located it about 200 feet out. It had floated that far before it had settled. I had never done anything like this before and it was a new experience for me. They brought in a big floating crane and I took cables down, hooked onto it and brought it right up. I guess it wasn’t damaged too badly as about four or five days later I saw it running down the tracks.

After that they sent us over to the U.S.S. Arizona. My lead man told me to plan on this being my permanent job unless something was posted on the bulletin board telling me otherwise.

Part 4 - A Job for A Blind Man
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