Early Sunday Morning: The Pearl Harbor Diary of Amber Billows, Hawaii, 1941

Sunday, December 7, 1941

At first I thought I was still dreaming. I heard an incessant droning, like the sound the China Clipper's propellers made, only much louder, more high-pitched. . . .

There were hundreds of planes in the sky. . . . They were coming in unbelievably low, barely clearing the treetops, circling in the sky and then peeling off, forming smaller groups of four and five. . . .

"It's Pearl Harbor! It's Pearl Harbor!" Andy was screaming. He was pointing to the column of black smoke that was rising up in the skies above Pearl Harbor. The smoke was mixing with the rays of the early morning sun, creating an eerie, bloodred sky.