Our ship left the convoy and entered Honolulu harbor.
We disembarked under heavy military guard at the Aloha Tower pier and
boarded the Toonerville Trolley, as we got to know the train on Oahu's
narrow gauge railway. An hour later, we were at Hickam.
The devastation was appalling. Burned-out hulks of bombed aircraft
were scattered about on parking aprons and in hangars, and piles of
debris lay along roadways. The roofs of military barracks hung down
along the outside of the structures; they had exploded up and outward
over the walls.
As a senior technician, I was assigned to the recovery and repair of
damaged parachutes, life rafts, inflatable life preservers, oxygen masks,
and the escape-and-evasion kits that air crews relied on when they bailed
out over enemy territory. All of the equipment that came to our shop
was closely inspected and repaired if possible. As soon as parachutes
and survival gear were fixed and ready for service, they were returned to
the airplane from which they came, shipped to air bases in the forward
areas, or into backup supply.
Many of us joined Hickam Field's armed civilians, officially titled the
Hawaiian Air Depot Volunteer Corps.
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