As Pearl Harbor memories fade into history, what then?
Smoke rises from the battleship USS Arizona as it sinks during the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, on Dec. 7, 1941. Credit: U.S. Navy via AP
In this season of poignancy, a particularly moving tableau will unfold Sunday in Hawaii. Pearl Harbor will be remembered and commemorated, as it is every Dec. 7. It is 84 years now since the surprise Japanese attack that propelled the United States into World War II, and 80 years since that bloody conflict ended.
As always, solemn ceremonies will honor those who died. As always, those who survived will bear witness.
But only one Pearl Harbor survivor is expected to be present in Honolulu this year. Two attended last year, five the year before that. By most counts, fewer than 15 survivors of the attack that killed more than 2,400 Americans are still alive. All are more than 100 years old. It is neither morbid nor disrespectful to acknowledge that in a few years, there will be none.
What then?
What will happen when no one is left to bear witness? Is a day that will live in infamy, as President Franklin Roosevelt declared after the attack, guaranteed to live in infamy forever?
When Pearl Harbor's survivors and all the veterans of World War II have died, when all of those who were alive when that conflict raged are gone, will we continue to understand the depth of the depravity, the extent of the evil, that spawned such strife? Will we feel the revulsion in our gut that makes us recoil from war and wary of those who would start one?
Already, the horrors of World War I have largely vanished from our collective consciousness. America's last vet from that conflict passed away in 2011. The events are recorded in history, of course, but nothing speaks to us more profoundly and with more impact than first-person testimony from our fellow humans. And nowadays, such personal witness is needed more than ever with truth under assault from leaders who invent facts and rewrite narratives, and from artificial intelligence's rapidly increasing ability to foster doubt about the veracity of anything.
Look at what has been happening with the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. For those who lived through that, our memories will endure — and painfully so — as long as we do. But absurd conspiracy theories have swirled about that day, and more than 100 million Americans were not born then or are too young to remember. Will 9/11 become a contested chapter in a history book?
So here's a Pearl Harbor refresher: Japan's attack on Dec. 7, 1941, stunned the United States. The carnage, which lasted less than two hours, killed nearly 1,200 on the USS Arizona alone. Fifteen ships and nearly 200 planes were destroyed or severely damaged. The attack drew our nation into World War II with devastating consequences — the loss of more than 400,000 Americans.
Many people from my generation had parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles who could tell you exactly where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news about Pearl Harbor, much as we do now about 9/11 and, before that, the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.
But time has its way with even the most vivid memories and those who hold them.
For generations, Pearl Harbor has been a lesson and a metaphor, an occasion to pay homage and a cautionary tale. We remember those who served and those who sacrificed. And through the deeds of the dead and the accounts of the living, we come to understand the heavy cost of war. If we mean to truly honor these heroes, we must pass that knowledge on to those who follow.
Failing to do so invites a reprise, another day that will live in infamy, in a list of such days that is far too long.
Columnist Michael Dobie's opinions are his own.
Michael Dobie is a retired member of the Newsday editorial board.
