My Troubles With Time by Benson Grayson Page B

the flames reach the ammunition, the resulting explosion will sink the
Arizona.
    Several broadsides are enough to turn the heavy cruiser into a sinking wreck. We must now catch up with the last remaining carrier and destroy it. Our speed has been reduced by the damage to our prow. Despite warning from damage control that it will increase the rate of flow of the leak, I order full maximum speed.
    With a start, I realize that Fleet Headquarters in Honolulu should be brought up to date on the course of the engagement. I order communications to inform Pearl Harbor that the
Arizona
has sunk three Japanese aircraft carriers, a heavy cruiser and a destroyer.
    Our 14-inch guns have sufficient range to hit the fourth carrier. It seems to take forever, but our salvos are beginning to take effect. The carrier slows, smoke coming from its superstructure.
    My jubilation is short-lived. Another Japanese heavy cruiser is speeding towards us, its guns blazing. I cannot risk allowing it to shell us unopposed.
    Reluctantly, I order number one turret to shift its fire to the cruiser, while number two turret continues firing at the carrier.
    Firing at close quarters, the cruiser’s guns inflict severe damage on the
Arizona.
We are hulled several times. I see dead and wounded members of our crew lying where they have fallen on the deck.
    Then we suffer the most serious blow. There is a massive explosion in number one turret. When the smoke dissipates, I see it, too, has been put out of action.
    Now I face a most difficult choice, whether to shift number two turret’s fire to the cruiser or to continue to have it pound the badly damaged fourth carrier. As I consider my options, there is a mighty crash and I am knocked to the desk by an invisible hand.
    Dazed, I struggle to my feet. My left arm aches; I touch it and find it bleeding. Debris litters the deck. About me, some of the men on the bridge are attempting to stand. Others are dead or wounded.
    I realize one of the cruiser’s shells has hit the bridge. Members of the crew rush to the bridge to assist us. I order one to replace the helmsman, who is dead. It takes me several seconds as I stare out at the damage on the deck before I realize that number two turret has been hit and is also out of action.
    Ironically, my next order concerns our battle flag. It has fallen to the deck. I fear, irrationally, that the Japanese cruiser may interpret that as a surrender signal. I order that the ripped and tattered ensign be raised again.
    With all of the
Arizona’s
primary armament out of action, I have no choice but to order the helmsman to execute a 180-degree turn and steer for Pearl Harbor. I doubt we can make it. Damage control reports that the pumps are unable to handle the flow of water cascading into our mangled prow.
    To further worsen the situation, damage to our engines has reduced our maximum speed to seven knots. I realize that under pounding from the cruiser’s guns, the
Arizona
has only a few minutes more afloat.
    A host of Japanese destroyers are rushing to assist the cruiser. I order communications to send a last signal to Pearl Harbor before destroying our code books lest they fall into Japanese hands. I learn that the cruiser’s last salvo destroyed the
Arizona’s
radio antenna, limiting our range to a few miles.
    Another officer would give the order to scuttle the
Arizona.
I refuse to do so. It is not for nothing that my classmates at the Naval Academy dubbed me “the Iron Duke.”
    Fortune aids me. The fire that had been burning on the cruiser intensifies. Japanese sailors are climbing into their lifeboats. It is about to sink! Turning to the fourth carrier, I see that it, too, is sinking by the stern.
    Our mission of revenging Pearl Harbor is accomplished. If the
Arizona
can evade the Japanese destroyers, we have a fair chance of reaching home safely. A sudden squall comes to my aid. I order the helmsman to steer the battleship into its midst. Providentially, a dense fog