Pearl Harbor

“At 7:55 a.m. Hawaii time, a Japanese dive bomber bearing the red symbol of the Rising Sun of Japan on its wings appears out of the clouds above the island of Oahu. A swarm of 360 Japanese warplanes followed, descending on the U.S. naval base at Pearl Harbor in a ferocious assault. The surprise attack struck a critical blow against the U.S. Pacific fleet and drew the United States irrevocably into World War II.”

When I think of the attack on Pearl Harbor, two men come to mind. John Calvin Moss and Ralph Percy Nield. Both men are my grandfathers. Pearl Harbor forever altered the course of their lives.

I didn’t know my grandpa Moss in the flesh, but I have heard so many stories of his life. I can remember asking my Uncle Etsel, Johnny’s brother, about my grandpa at a family reunion. He said, with a tear in his eye, “He didn’t need to be a damn hero.” His words have stayed with me. My grandpa Moss is one of my heroes. He has helped me through some of my darkest days. I have talked to him in dreams. He is always with me.

Air Force 1st Sergeant John Calvin Moss was a turret gunner on a Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress. Anti-aircraft fire destroyed his aircraft over Berlin, Germany, February 3rd 1945. He left behind a wife, Jessie Ruth Bingham Moss, and a son, Brent John Moss. Johnny met his son once, for a few minutes after his birth, before returning to Lowry Field.

My grandpa Nield was shot at the last battle for Iwo Jima on March 16th, 1945. He didn’t like to talk about the war, but on rare occasions he would. I don’t remember how old I was when he shared with me and showed me his bullet scar. I remember how I felt — I felt grateful. My grandpa Nield married Johnny’s wife, Jessie. My grandpa Nield was a gentle giant and a tremendous influence in my life.

On one of my visits to see my mom, a memory book was shared with me. The book was full of treasures. There were pictures, newspaper clippings, letters, and stories. Three things found in the book stood out. One was the letter sent to my grandma after Johnny was killed. The second was a poem Johnny carried in his wallet. The third was a newspaper article documenting my Grandpa Nields injury.

I will be forever grateful for memory keepers. Those who write stories, share memories and save pictures for future generations. I am grateful for two men who have helped shape me into the person I am today. Two men who put love for country first. Two men who remind me that freedom isn’t free. Two men with Christlike love.

December 7, 2020