Final Letters from the U.S.S. Arizona Crew
Final Letters from the U.S.S. Arizona Crew
Written by: Bobbi Jo Buhl
Their letters home from aboard the U.S.S. Arizona carried quiet warnings of war. Weeks later, the attack on Pearl Harbor claimed their lives—but not their voices.
“The war is coming. Some of us won’t be coming back. I hope I am one of the lucky ones,” James William Horrocks, a gunner’s mate and chief petty officer aboard the U.S.S. Arizona, told his wife, Virginia, in the summer of 1941.
Mr. Horrocks served in the Canadian Army and was a bricklayer before he enlisted in the U.S. Navy in 1922. At age 53, he was one of the oldest and most experienced men on the battleship. When his wife back in Arizona recounted his prediction many years later, she did not explain why he thought America would soon be at war, but sadly he was right.
Mr. Horrocks was one of 1,177 sailors and Marines killed on the Arizona in the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941.
Germany invaded Poland in September 1939, leading France and Britain to declare war. In the U.S., public sentiment was against sending troops to Europe. Meanwhile, though, the military readied itself for the possibility of war. By the summer of 1941 the men on the Arizona could clearly see the preparations. There was more ammunition on board and more practice maneuvers. The ship was repainted to make it harder to spot.
That June, days before his 20th birthday, Ivan Joseph Huval, wrote to his oldest sister, Ivalow, back home in Louisiana. He’d been in the Navy less than a year.
“Yes, Ivalow the war is rather creeping on us… I wish I could tell you of the little experience I saw just before leaving Hawaii but I can’t, but when I saw it, it really brought the war closer for the U.S.A. When we are at sea every time a ship is spotted over the horizon we all man our battle stations and keep the guns train on it till we can make out what kind of ship it is, that’s how really close we are in war and this war will be fought by air and sea, you can bet on that. But if war was declared this very minute it wouldn’t surprise me one bit and I would feel no different, only one thing I wish for if war was to break out, I would like to see all the family once more, then I think I wouldn’t mind going into war at all.”
Mr. Huval, a seaman first class, was also killed on Dec. 7, 1941. The next day Congress declared war on Japan, and three days later on Germany and Italy as well.
In his last letter home to Wisconsin, written shortly before the attack on Pearl Harbor, aviation machinist Walter Robert Boviall had advice for his youngest sister, Lois, who was about eight.
“You are too young and sweet, but try to understand. If I should die and leave you here awhile, be not like others who keep long vigils by the silent dust and weep. Please, for my sake, turn again to life and smile.”
Lois lived to age 72. In an interview just before the 50th anniversary of her brother’s death, she said she visited a local memorial marker for him three or four times a year. “As the years go by, some things sort of heal,” she told a reporter. “But they are never forgotten.”