Pay Clerk D. L. Westfall wrote as follows:
At the time of the attack I was in my room shaving. The word was passed "Away Fire and Rescue Party;" just as I was leaving my room the second word was passed for all hands to man their General Quartets Stations closely followed by a shock of a hit. I glanced at my clock as I was leaving my room and noticed the time was a few minutes before 8:00 A.M.
I started for my station in Radio Central; as I was passing along the third deck up a port ammunition passageway, I felt two more hits. The lights went out in the passageway except for one battle light and two panel lights in the boat crane machinery space.
By the time I reached the compartment abreast the armory the ship had picked up a 10-15 list to port; there were a couple of battle lights on in this compartment. Water and oil were bubbling up along the junction of the bulkhead and deck of the electrical work shop, port side. Repair personnel were busy closing watertight doors.
When I reached Radio Central, personnel there had just started evacuating on the orders of the Communication Watch Officer. Radio equipment apparently was out of commission as I noticed many pieces of equipment knocked over or dangling by wires. Back up on the third deck all lights were out and only a few flashlights were available. About this time the word came along from man to man to "Abandon Ship." I helped a partially incapacitated man to the second deck and then joined in a line passing injured men along to the ladder by the dental office. I lost all knowledge of time while here, but after some minutes, Ensign McClelland, who was beside me in the line, said be was feeling faint and then collapsed. I noticed other men dropping around me. I stooped over to pick up Mr. McClelland but when I stooped over I got dizzy and fell. I seemed to be paralyzed from the waist down, had great difficulty breathing, but had enough strength in my arms to drag myself to the ladder and up a couple of steps before collapsing completely [fuel oil fumes are mentioned on other ships as being cause for such collapses].
After passing out I had only flashes of consciousness until mid-afternoon. When I recovered I was at the Naval Air Dispensary on Ford Island. Shortly thereafter I joined a bunch of men going over to BOQ [Bachelor Officers Quarters] at the Air Station and started a check on survivors from the supply department.
The action of everyone I observed was cool and purposeful as soon as they fully realized we were actually under attack. The only confusion was occasioned by lack of lighting. My life itself is proof of the courage and disregard of personal danger on the part of unknown shipmates.
Second Lieutenant William G. Muller, Jr., wrote as follows:
I had just returned aboard ship on the 0745 motor boat; the boat came alongside the gangway at approximately 0750. On reaching the Junior Officers' mess the word came over the loud speaker system, "Air attack, all unengaged personnel seek cover, these are real Japanese bombers." I could hardly believe that this was a real attack but the excitement and reality of the voice convinced me to move. I left the mess and started aft, first stopping off at my room to get my pistol. My room is on the starboard side, just aft of the Junior Officers mess. I left my room and went over to the port side to enter the third deck via the hatch just adjacent to the Warrant Officers mess. A line had formed by this time and men were pouring down into the third deck. I finally found an opening in the line and started down the ladder. I had just reached the third deck and was almost opposite the ladder when the first torpedo hit. The explosion came from the vicinity of the Wardroom and was not a violent one. The line was still moving down into the third deck and I was opposite the Communication office when the second torpedo hit. This explosion caused violent repercussions and the whole ship seemed to tremble. I figured the hit was almost adjacent to where I was standing.
By this time I decided to leave as water was beginning to flood into the third deck and the ship started listing to port. I assume there were a couple hundred personnel in that third deck and only a few of us were able to reach a hatchway in time. Two more torpedo hits were sustained by the time I was able to work my way back to the hatch I had entered and to get up to the second deck. The ship was about 35 to port by this time and the decks were too slippery and steep to walk on. I worked my way to starboard by use of dogs and fittings on the bulkhead. During this time I heard the last two explosions which were somewhere amidship or aft. There were six torpedo hits that I heard in all.
With difficulty I made the starboard side and climbed into my room which I knew had an open port. The porthole was almost overhead and I climbed through it, slid down the side which inclined about 50 and jumped into the water.
Ensign H. F. Rommel wrote as follows:
The first bombs were from dive-bombers on the hangars at Ford Island. Then a torpedo plane, coming in from over Ford Island, dropped a torpedo at a ship at 10-10 dock, The ship was hit about midships and the explosion seemed upward with many splinters.
I ran aft and passed the word "A cruiser has just been sunk. These are real bombs and real torpedoes. Man the anti-aircraft battery."
The ship listed slowly but steadily. No word was received over the speaker to abandon ship. I escaped via the overhang hatch and was picked up by a battleship motor launch. We continued pulling men out of the water. It was difficult due to the oil making everyone slippery. Men with undershirts could be pulled into boats by grabbing the shoulder piece and sleeve on each side while men who had stripped were very slippery. It is recommended that men be instructed not to remove undershirts when abandoning ship.
Ensign J. M. Doherty wrote as follows;
When the word was passed to man battle stations I left the J.O.[Junior Officers] Mess for the third deck. On the way down the ladder, the first bomb or torpedo hit. Before I ever got to the Communications Office, oil was pouring into the compartment A-122-P from a hole near frame 60. We had no time to set Zed ["Zed" or "Condition Zed" refers to the closure of all watertight hatches and doors] and I guess there were four or five hits in about five minutes, The ship listed to port and oil was knee deep on the third deck after the first five to seven minutes.
Bunks and bedding interfered considerably with people trying to get around. They were all over the deck at all angles and in everyone's way. The ladder to the second deck was bent and twisted and the lights went out after approximately the fourth hit.
I got out a port on the second deck. I think that ports should not be sealed up but left open for personnel to escape Ladders should be fastened at the lower end and not be allowed to hang loose as when the ship turns over the ladders jam up the hatches. There should be more hatches in more compartments. Ships should not be overcrowded with people "training" if ships are in dangerous areas. Let the people train in peaceful waters on ships not likely to be hit.
Shipfitter, First Class, W. T. Link wrote as follows:
Time was short and in such time word was passed, "Japanese Airplane Attack--All unengaged personnel seek cover on the third deck--Set condition Zed--Man your Battle Stations."
By sending the men to seek cover on the third deck, jammed ladders prevented quick access to repair stations and also crowded repair stations.
Repair One was never fully manned and three men were dropping large hatches. Oil made it necessary to turn nuts with wrenches.
Chain stanchions secured with nuts could not be removed in the short time we had and hatches were not closed at all. Countless parts were not closed because of the necessity of using a wrench to turn the slick oily nuts.
I never did hear "Abandon ship" and Repair One did not all escape.
I escaped through a port in the A Division living space, had no trouble, and ran around or up to the bottom of the ship. I obtained a life jacket out of the water along side of the ship and put it on. I helped another sailor back on the ship and was pulled on the ship again myself by Birnel SF2/c. Then I swam to the rescue boat. I did not dive off the ship, only shoved off into the water, I was never excited but was covered with oil.
Chief Water Tender, L. C. Bickley wrote as follows:
On or about 0800, 7 December 1941, the word was passed to man all battle stations. I went to #2 Fireroom Pumproom and was starting pumps until the water came in through the air ducts and flooded the pumprooms. The hatch to #2 Pumproom was down and I couldn't get it up, so I dived and swam into #1 Pumproom and out. The lights were out and I couldn't see where the two men went that were with me. I got to H Division living compartment and water started coming in so I went out through a port hole in the wash room after the ship rolled over, and was picked up by a motor launch and put ashore in the Navy Yard. The only word I got over the phone was to get ready to get underway.
Many men were lost in the lower handling rooms of turrets. Falling 14-inch shells killed and injured a great many. About 125 men remained in an air pocket in the shipfltters shop, but when the space was opened, water rushed in as air rushed out. Only one man of this group saved himself by swimming to the CPO [Chief Petty Officer] pantry on the third deck and out through an open porthole. His story is as follows as gained from excerpts of statement given by Chief Machinist, Second Class I. M. Hull:
The lights were out. I went to the shipfitter shop and tried to get up the hatch leading to the CPO quarters but water washed me back. The ship had listed 90 to port so I tried to swim out through the same hatch but was washed back again and landed in the C100s along the Conveyor. I dogged the door down to the shipfitter shop. The ship listed another 90 thus being all the way over. We had about 125 men in the C100s. After 4 hours, the men tore the door off the shipfitter shop. Water and oil came into the C100s and rose to waist level. I swam to the CPO pantry and out a port hole. None came with me. I left the ship about 1300, 5 hours after the ship sank,
The story of D. Weissman, Seaman, First Class is as follows:
I was in the lower handling room of Turret IV. After the first hit, I went to the shell deck. The lights went out and the ship started to turn over. I went to the lower handling room and followed a man with a flash light. I entered the trunk just outside of handling room on the starboard side. The lower handling room flooded completely. Water entered the trunk. I dove and swam to the bottom of the trunk and left the ship through the hatch at the main deck and swam to the surface.
Eleven men in the lower handling room of turret IV escaped through the lucky bag. When the rescue party cut a hole in the lucky bag, the water rose rapidly but all men were removed before the water flooded the lucky bag completely.
Five men were in the five inch twenty-five caliber handling room preparatory to sending up anti-aircraft ammunition. They escaped to the five inch handling room and reduced flooding through ventilation ducts by stuffing rags in the lines. They were eventually saved by the rescue party by way of the shaft alley.
Eight men with water up to their necks were rescued from the steering compartment after these men, who had set condition "Z," were enabled to enter the steering room through the hole made for them. Three holes were made in all; pumps were in use constantly to keep the level of the water and oil below the danger point.