mac.thepearlharbormurders-第26章

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　When　eleven…year…old　Don　Morton…frightened　by　the　low…flying；　strafing　planes…came　scooting　back　home　without　his　brother　Jerry；　his　mom　wasn't　mad。　She　just　hustled　him　into　their　car　and　they　drove　down　to　the　landing；　where　Don　and　Jerry　had　been　fishing。
　No　other　cars　were　around；　but　she　honked　her　horn　all　the　way；　and　Don　thought　maybe　she　was　scared；　too…they　were　driving　right　toward　where　all　the　explosions　were　ing　from。
　Suddenly　Jerry　came　bursting　out　from　some　algar…roba　bushes；　calling；　〃Mom！　Mom！〃
　She　stopped　the　car；　let　Jerry　in；　and　hugged　him。
　〃A　man　helped　me；〃　Jerry　said。　〃He　pushed　me　into　the　bushes　when　a　plane　was　ing。〃
　〃What　man？〃　his　mother　asked。
　〃That　man；〃　Jerry　said；　and　pointed　to　the　body　of　a　Marine　corporal　alongside　the　dirt　road。
　Don's　mom　turned　their　car　around　and　headed　for　Honolulu；　as　explosions　shook　the　world　all　around　them。
　Bill　Fielder；　in　the　borrowed　Pierce　Arrow　convertible；　had　a　hell　of　a　time　trying　to　get　to　Pearl。　He　was　crazy　with　desperation…all　he　could　think　of　was　getting　back　to　his　ship！
　But　it　was　a　slow　go。　At　first　the　streets　were　empty；　but　quickly　they　became　clogged　with　cars　and　taxis；　as　well　as　emergency　vehicles。　Bill　would　whip　his　car　around　the　jams；　whenever　possible；　riding　on　the　sidewalk　if　he　had　to。　The　sky　boiled　with　black　oil　smoke；　and　it　seemed　like　the　end　of　the　world…he　passed　by　several　water　mains　that　had　broken；　shooting　geysers　fifty　feet　in　the　air；　and　people　had　loaded　their　cars　up　with　toys　and　clothes；　sometimes　with　baby　buggies　or　bicycles　strapped　on　the　roof；　like　European　war　refugees；　heading　for　the　hills。
　The　rolling　lanes　of　the　Kamehameha　Highway　were　choked　with　civiUan　cars　and　taxis　piled　with　servicemen　scrambling　to　get　to　their　posts。　It　seemed　to　take　forever；　crawling　toward　Pearl　Harbor。　Finally；　when　he　came　over　a　rise；　at　the　highway's　highest　point；　he　got　a　panoramic　view：　silver　planes　skimming　over　the　sea　toward　battleships；　bombs　whistling　down；　dive…bombers　howling　in　on　their　targets；　shells　exploding　in　midair；　machine　guns　chattering；　low…flying　fighters　strafing　anything　and　everything；　the　harbor　a　mass　of　fuel　oil；　smoke　and　flames。　Even　from　this　distance；　the　acrid　smell　of　burning　and　battle　seemed　to　singe　his　nostrils。
　The　worst　of　it　was　the　battleships　getting　hit　so　hard…the　Oklahoma　had　already　capsized；　and　the　Arizona　could　be　next。
　He　felt　sick…at　heart；　to　his　stomach。
　〃e　on；　e　on；　e　on！〃　Bill　yelled；　and　he　laid　on　his　horn…not　that　honking　would　do　any　good。　Everyone　caught　in　this　jam　wanted　it　to　move　along　just　as　badly　as　Bill　did。　But　he　was　frustrated；　knowing　that　time　was　running　out。
　He　just　wasn't　aware　how　soon。
　A　bomb　hit　the　Pierce　Arrow；　obliterating　it；　and　Bill；　leaving　a　charred；　flaming　husk　of　an　automobile　and　very　little　of　its　driver。
　Bill　Fielder　had　just　bee　the　first　Arizona　fatality。
　Moored　aft　of　the　Tennessee；　a　massive　608　feet　long；　the　Arizona　carried　a　main　armament　of　twelve　fourteen…inch　guns；　her　hull　shielded　at　the　waterline　by　a　thirteen…inch　thickness　of　steel；　with　twenty　inches　of　armor　housing　her　four　turrets。　No　more　formidable　weapon　of　war…at…sea　was　known　to　man　than　a　battleship　such　as　this。
　An　armor…piercing　bomb　hit　the　ship　between　its　number…two　gun　turret　and　bow；　punching　a　hundred…foot　hole　in　the　deck；　then　exploding　in　a　fuel　tank　below。　Within　seconds；　almost　two　million　pounds　of　explosives　detonated；　forming　a　fireball　of　red；　yellow　and　black；　the　ship　lifting　twenty　feet　in　the　air；　tossing　men　like　rag　dolls；　ship's　steel　opening　like　a　blossoming　flower　to　spread　petals　of　huge　red　flame。
　The　halves　of　the　ship　tumbled　into　the　water；　where　her　skewed　decks　were　walked　by　burning　men；　a　ghostly；　ghastly　crew　staggering　out　of　the　flames；　one　by　one；　dropping　dead。
　Seaman　First　Class　Dan　Pressman…whose　previous　battle　had　been　on　Hotel　Street；　last　night…had　been　manning　a　gun…director　unit　above　the　bridge；　when　he　sustained　burns　over　most　of　his　body；　still；　he　managed　to　make　use　of　a　line　that　had　been　made　fast　to　the　mast　of　a　repair　ship　moored　alongside　the　Arizona。
　Pressman　and　five　other　badly　burned　sailors…suffering　shock；　but　wanting　to　live…swung　high　above　the　water　on　the　line；　going　hand　over　hand　to　safety；　even　as　their　ears　were　filled　with　the　screams　of　fellow　crew　members　on　the　burning；　dying　halves　of　the　ship；　or　in　the　water　beneath；　which；　surrealistically；　was　on　fire；　too。
　Her　superstructure　enfolded　in　flame；　the　Arizona…　her　shattered　foremast　tipping　forward…settled　to　the　bottom　of　the　harbor；　three…quarters　of　her　crew。。。。　some　1；177　officers　and　enlisted　men　。。。　dead　in　the　most　devastating　of　all　the　blows　delivered　by　Japan　in　the　surprise　air　attack　on　Pearl　Harbor。
　In　his　quarters　at　Fort　Shafter；　General　Short　had　just　gotten　into　his　golfing　gear；　for　the　planned　eighteen　holes　with　Kimmel；　Fielder　and　Throckmorton；　when　he　heard　explosions…which　he　recognized　at　once　as　bombs　going　off。
　He　didn't　think　anything　of　it…the　Navy　was　obviously　having　some　sort　of　battle　practice；　and　he　was　mildly　annoyed　that　no　one　on　Kimmel's　team　had　warned　him　about　it。。。　unless　they　had　told　him；　and　he'd　forgotten　it。
　But　the　explosions　seemed　to　build；　grow　nearer；　and　that　got　the　general's　curiosity　up。　He　wandered　out　onto　his　lanai…the　very　porch　where　the　evening　before　an　FBI　agent　had　told　him　about　a　possible　coded　message…and　he　could　see　smoke　to　the　west；　a　lot　of　it。。。　and　black。
　Shrugging；　he　was　heading　back　in　to　have　some　coffee　before　he　left　for　the　golf　course；　when　he　heard　a　loud　knock　at　the　front　door。　His　wife　was　not　up　yet；　so　he　went　to　answer　it　quickly；　in　case　she　had　somehow　managed　to　sleep　through　the　Navy's　infernal　racket。
　Wooch　Fielder；　in　blue　sport　shirt　and　blue　slacks；　was　standing　on　the　front　porch。　Fielder　had　the　startled　expression　of　a　deer　perked　by　the　sound　of　a　hunter；　and　his　face　was　fish…belly　white。
　〃What's　wrong；　Wooch？　Am　I　late？〃　The　general　looked　at　his　wristwatch。　〃Didn't　think　we　were　playing　till…〃
　〃Sir；　we're　under　attack…it's　the　real　thing。〃
　More　explosions。
　The　general　leaned　out　the　door；　asked；　〃What's　going　on　out　there？〃
　〃Bicknell　says　he　saw　two　battleships　sunk。〃
　〃Why；　that's　ridiculous。。。。〃
　〃Sir；　both　Hickam　and　Wheeler　have　phoned…　they've　been　hit。〃
　Short　drew　in　a　sharp　breath；　then；　crisply；　he　said；　〃Put　into　effect　Alert　Number　Three。　Everybody　to　battle　position。〃
　〃Yes；　sir。〃
　〃Do　it；　Wooch…I'll　be　right　with　you。〃
　And　he　shut　the　door；　reeling；　knowing　that　if　the　Japs　would　mount　a　damn…fool　sneak　air　raid；　they　might　even　risk　landing　troops；　there　was　no　telling　how　seriously　this　attack　might　develop。
　General　Short　knew　only　one　thing　for　certain：　he　had　to　get　out　of　these　damn　golf　togs。
　Don　and　Jerry　Morton's　mother；　terrified　by　the　explosions　around　them；　stopped　the　car；　and　led　her　boys　into　a　sugarcane　field；　where　they　all　sat　with　hands　on　their　ears；　heads　between　their　knees。
　Now　and　then；　Don's　mother　would　ask　either　him　or　Jerry　to　peek　up　and　see　if　the　airplanes　swooping　overhead　were　American。
　And；　for　the　next　two　hours；　they　never　were。　Shivering；　Don　wondered　if　his　stepfather　was　okay　on　Ford　Island。
　（He　was　not：　the　boys'　stepfather　had　been　among　the　first　to　die　today；　hit　by　a　bomb　on　the　Ford　Island　seaplane　ramp。）
　The　U。S。　Pacific　Fleet　was　a　family　of　sorts…big；　and　yet　small　enough　that　most　men　knew　anyone　else　in　their　specialized　line　of　work；　a　man　might　enlist　and　stay　on　one　ship　until　retirement；　twenty　or　thirty　years　later。　Officers　had　ties；　as　well；　often　going　back　to　Annapolis　days。　Admiral　Kimmel　knew　thousands　of　his　men　by　sight；　and　hundreds　by　name；　and　dozens　were　his　personal　Mends。
　From　his　office　window　at　fleet　HQ；　Kimmel　could　do　little　more　than　stand　and　watch　his　ships。。。　and　his　men。。。　die…the　admiral　helplessly　bearing　the　thunder　of　exploding　bombs；　and　the　anvil　clangs　of　torpedoes　ravaging　his　ships；　bleeding　rolling　clouds　of　smoke。
　His　people　tried　to　establish　munications　with　the　areas　under　attack；　and　sent　messages　to　ships　at　sea；　advising　them　of　what　was　happening　at　Pearl。　They　could　hear　explosions　and　see　waterspouts　and；　of　course；　the　funnels　of　black　smoke。
　〃I　must　say；〃　Kimmel　said　quietly　to　the　officers　around　him；　〃it's　a　beautifully　executed　military　maneuver　。。。　leaving　aside　the　unspeakable　treachery　of　it。〃
　As　he　stood　there；　a　bullet　came　crashing　through　the　window　and　struck　him　on　the　chest…leaving　a　sooty　splotch　on　his　otherwise　immaculate　white　uniform。　He　bent　to　pick　up　what　turned　out　to　be　a　spent　。50…caliber　machine…gun　slug。
　Softly；　he　said；　〃I　wish　it　had　killed　me…that　would've　been　merciful。〃
　Then　he　reached　up　and；　with　both　hands；　tore　loose　the　four…star　boards　on　bis　shoulders；　he　went　into　his　office　and　came　back　wearing　two…star　boards；　having　demoted　himself。
　At　the　Japanese　Consulate；　Jardine　and　Sterling…with　Burroughs　and　Hully　tagging　after…searched　the　pound。　General　Consul　Kita　was　along；　as　well；　a　bored　fat　man　in　his　pajamas；　and　when　Jardine　came　to　a　locked　door；　toward　the　rear　of　the　main　building；　he　demanded　that　Kita　open　it。　〃I　have　no　key；〃　Kita　said；　unflappable。
　The　acrid　smell　of　smoke　was　leaching　out　from　around　the　door。
　〃They're　burning　papers　again；〃　Sterling　said。　〃Kita；　tell　them　to　open　up！〃
　Sighing；　seemingly　blase；　Kita　began　to　knock；　but　no　one　answered；　Burroughs　yanked　the　man　aside；　and　Sterling　crashed　his　shoulder　into　the　wood；　several　times；　until　the　door　finally　splintered　open。
　Four　Japanese　men　in　sport　shirts　and　slacks　were　standing　around　a　washtub　in　which　they　had　been　burning　papers　and　codebooks。　Around　them　in　the　small　nondescript　room　were　file　cabinets　whose　drawers　yawned　open。
　Hully　snatched　a　brown；　accordion…style　folder　out　of　one　of　the　men's　hands；　before　he　could　dump　its　contents　into　the　tub　of　flames。　Jardine　hopped　into　the　tub　and　stamped　out　the　fire；　like　he　was　mashing　grapes　into　wine。
　Sterling　had　Burroughs　train　his　gun　on　the　four　men　while　the　FBI　agent　patted　them　down　for　weapons…　they　had　none。　One　of　the　men　was　the　Consulate's　treasurer…they　were　all　officials　of　the　consulate。
　〃Look　at　this；〃　Hully　said；　holding　up　a　sheet　of　typing　paper　taken　from　the　brown　folder。　The　white　sheet　bore　a　detailed　sketch　of　ship　locations　at　Pearl　Harbor。
　〃Where's　Morimura？〃　Burroughs　demanded　of　their　prisoners。
　〃Or　should　we　say　'Yoshikawa'？〃　Sterling　said。　〃Where　is　he？〃
　None　of　them　replied。
　But　Kita；　suddenly　helpful；　volunteered；　〃He　had　a　golf　match　this　morning。〃
　Sterling　glanced　at　Burroughs。　〃Well；　he's　not　in　the　building。〃
　〃Nor　is　his　driver；〃　Kita　said。
　Jardine　took　charge　of　Kita　and　the　others；　and　Sterling；　Burroughs　and　Hully　checked　out　the　Consulate's　garage：　the　Lincoln　was　gone。
　〃So　we　head　for　the　golf　course；〃　Sterling　said。
　〃He　won't　be　there；〃　Burroughs　said。　〃He's　in　hiding。〃
　〃Where　the　hell
　Burroughs　twitched　a　smile；　Hully　was　nodding　as　his　father　said；　〃I　think　I　know。〃
　And…under　a　sky　momentarily　quiet；　but　sti