Pearl Harbor Speech by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt
to the Congress of the United States - December 8th, 1941
Yesterday, Dec. 7, 1941 - a date
which will live in infamy - the United States of America was suddenly and
deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.
The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation
of Japan, was still in conversation with the government and its emperor looking
toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific.
Indeed, one hour after
Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in Oahu, the Japanese ambassador to
the United States and his colleagues delivered to the Secretary of State a
formal reply to a recent American message. While this reply stated that it
seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no
threat or hint of war or armed attack.
It will be recorded that the
distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately
planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time, the Japanese government has deliberately
sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope
for continued peace.
The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian islands has caused severe damage to
American naval and military forces. Very many American lives have been lost. In
addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.
Yesterday, the Japanese government also launched an attack against
Malaya.
Last night, Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong.
Last
night, Japanese forces attacked Guam.
Last night, Japanese forces
attacked the Philippine Islands.
Last night, the Japanese attacked Wake
Island.
This morning, the Japanese attacked Midway Island.
Japan
has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific
area. The facts of yesterday speak for themselves. The people of the United
States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications
to the very life and safety of our nation.
As commander in chief of the Army and the Navy, I have directed
that all measures be taken for our defense.
Always will we remember the
character of the onslaught against us.
No matter how long it may take us
to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous
might will win through to absolute victory.
I believe I interpret the
will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only
defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make very certain that this form of
treachery shall never endanger us again.
Hostilities exist. There is no
blinking at the fact that our people, our territory and our interests are in
grave danger.
With confidence in our armed forces - with the unbounding
determination of our people - we will gain the inevitable triumph - so help us
God.
I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and
dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, Dec. 7, a state of war has existed between
the United States and the Japanese empire.
As in all things, the most accurate point-of-view willl come from from "first person observation". This soldier who was on scene at the Pentagon on 09/11 and has served in Iraq & Afghanstan provides insight into what our military experienced over the last 10 years.
Sage words from one of our warriors.
A soldier remembers
Thu Sep 8, 2011 / Gettysburg Times By Colonel Brian D. Prosser
On September 11, 2001, I was serving in the Pentagon. Today, I am deployed in Afghanistan and serving alongside approximately 130,000 other U.S. and Coalition service members. Yes, one could say that 9/11 holds a special, almost reverent, significance to me. To simply say that 9/11 has affected hundreds of thousands of military members misses the point, and underestimates its impact. The attacks of 9/11drastically changed our lives and those of our families.
It is hard to believe ten years have passed since the events of that terrible day shocked the world. Do you still remember the ashes and the smoke, the complete devastation of the World Trade Center - the black void - the crevice in the Pentagon, the scorched field in Shanksville, Pa.?
As it unfolded, we didn't want to believe it was true. And as it washed over us, the pictures, the destruction, it was almost too much to imagine; not in THIS country. If there is one city in this country we love to hate, it's New York City. But on that day we simply loved New Yorkers, we ached for them - and admired them for their character in dealing with the devastation.
Do you remember the shrines, the memorials, the flowers, the pictures, the poems, and the thousands of people who converged on Ground Zero to just be closer and to hope above hope that their loved one, friend, or colleague had somehow been spared?
The temptation is to look back, to remember our lost in sadness and in silence. We have labeled it a tragedy. But it was far more than that. Merriam-Webster defines tragedy as "a disastrous event." Another source adds that a tragedy involves a, "distressing loss or injury of life." Distressing, hmm - how about wanton, unjustifiable, shameless and indefensible? Nineteen al-Qaida terrorists murdered almost 3,000 innocent men, women and children, and it is right to honor and mourn them. But it is also important, and right, to remain committed to ensuring that men never again get the opportunity to murder innocents as they did just ten years ago.
Do you remember the firemen? When the first plane hit the tower, there were no firemen on the scene. Yet by the time the towers crumbled under the heat of the fire, over 300 of them died inside, many of them being blessed by a priest or a minister as they entered the buildings - in fact 343 firemen were murdered inside those towers. Some have said that those men were thrown into the situation and were made into heroes that day. I disagree. I don't think they were made into heroes that day; I think they were simply discovered that day. They were heroes long before they entered the towers. They were there all the time, among us.
For over thirty years, I've been a soldier and among heroes. And for the last ten years, be it here in Afghanistan, in Iraq, back in the States and elsewhere in the world, there have been many heroes, and not just those in uniform.
I know that Afghanistan no longer resides on the front pages of our newspapers. And I appreciate that the economy, lost jobs, the debt debate, and other important affairs which affect the daily lives of Americans have overshadowed this war. Having been here in Afghanistan for 11 months, I can assure all Pennsylvanians that their service men and women know why they are here. We understand the formidable challenges yet to overcome, and yet also appreciate the success that we've encountered along the way.
I don't know whether it will all work out here in Afghanistan. Who really does? I admit that there are real and substantial difficulties in working to inform, educate, and change a culture and society so different from ours. But I also believe that we're making an incredible difference in the lives of many Afghans. We may save a lost generation of young Afghan men and women who weren't given the opportunity to learn because of Taliban. In the last 20 months, we have taught more than 100,000 Afghan National Security Force soldiers and policemen to read and write at a 1st grade level. This initiative and so many others take time, resources, but most of all, people. We've spent billions of dollars, millions of man-hours and lost incredible and courageous people along the way. Many tears have been shed the last 10 years for those lost fighting to help ensure another 9/11 does not occur.
I am reminded of a newspaper article I read several years ago that was written about the Rangers killed in Grenada. It seems appropriate on this day:
No phrases can fill the void or soothe the hurt left by the loss of young men's lives, however worthy the cause for which those lives were given.
Hymns and speeches in praise of patriotism and bravery, in celebration of skill and daring, pale as platitudes when compared to the acts and attitudes they are meant to honor.
In the end it comes down to the lump in the throat, the glistening in the eye, the choke in the voice - the search for something to say that can't be said, but can only be expressed in the gushing forth of the innermost feelings.
As in all battles and all wars, the final ceremony is accompanied not by the roll of drums, but by the fall of tears.
Maybe that's what this day is about. Not so much the waving of the flag as our looking upon it with reverence, appreciating the ideal it stands for. Not so much the public proclamations as the quiet moments by ourselves, remembering those who died so needlessly at others' hands. Not so much by sounding the war cry as by the fall of tears.
I am proud to be a soldier and to serve with heroes, and I am honored to call Pennsylvania my home. On this 10th anniversary of 9/11, I ask that you remember those we lost on 9/11, those lost fighting for freedom in the years since, and those who continue to work to prevent such murder again.
Colonel Brian D. Prosser is a 30-year Army veteran currently serving as the Deputy Chief of Staff in NATO Training Mission-Afghanistan in Kabul. He and his family currently live in Springfield, Va. He is a native of York Springs, Pa., and a 1978 graduate of Bermudian Springs High School. He graduated from the Army War College, Carlisle, Pa., in 2007
AWESOME USE OF THE TECHNOLOGY DUDE.....Give this kid recognition as he made it happen....all on his own......Bravo Zulu, young lad.
Teen makes digital record of Arlington graves
Ricky Gilleland, a tech-savvy 11th-grader, has created the only digitized record of Iraq and Afghanistan veterans laid to rest at Arlington National Cemetery.
Ricky Gilleland, 17, has set up a website documenting graves of every service member buried at Arlington National Cemetery.
April 26, 2011, 8:08 p.m.
Reporting from Arlington, Va.— Rosemary Brown is standing over the grave of her son at Arlington National Cemetery when someone catches her eye. It's a boy in khaki shorts and muddy shoes, juggling a clunky camera and the Motorola Xoom he got for his 17th birthday five days earlier.
"May I ask what you're doing?" Brown inquires. The boy begins to peck at the Xoom tablet, and in seconds the image that Brown has come all the way from Cartwright, Okla., to see fills the screen. It's the white marble headstone of Army Special Forces Staff Sgt. Jason L. Brown, killed by small-arms fire in Afghanistan three years ago this day. Her face brightens.
"Most of Jason's family and friends are in Oklahoma and Texas. For them to be able to see his grave…," she says, her voice breaking.
Richard "Ricky" Gilleland III — 11th-grader and Junior Future Business Leaders of America computer ace — has succeeded where the Army failed: He has created the only digitized record of Iraq and Afghanistan veterans laid to rest at Arlington. His website, preserveandhonor.comis a reverent catalog of the fallen, and one young man's response to a scandal of Army mismanagement, mismarked graves and unmarked remains that has rocked this hallowed place for two years.
"It's a tool to help remember people. They can go on and think, 'Wow, look at all these people who gave their lives just so I can walk around,' " Ricky says.
His "project," as he calls it, won't fix Arlington's considerable problems. A commission led by former Sens. Bob Dole and Max Cleland was formed to attempt that.
But his simple website has brought a measure of order and relief to military families unnerved by reports first disclosed by Salon.com in 2009: unidentified remains in graves thought to be empty, one service member buried on top of another, an unmarked urn that turned up in a dirt landfill.
The father of one Marine was so disturbed that he had the remains of his son — a 19-year-old private killed in Iraq by a roadside blast in 2006 — disinterred last year. He searched the coffin that held his son's ravaged body himself. A left-arm tattoo confirmed no mistake had been made, reassurance that came at a terrible price.
An investigation by the Army inspector general concluded in June that at least 211 graves were mislabeled. Top brass were fired. And the management of the 147-year-old American landmark, where about 300,000 fallen troops rest, suddenly seemed as chaotic as its uniform lines of unadorned white markers are orderly.
Cemetery operations were declared antiquated. Arlington still relies on paper records and index cards to maintain 200 acres where presidents, astronauts, freed slaves and heroes of every American war lie. "One fire, flood or coffee spill away" from irreplaceable loss, Sen. Mark Warner (D-Va.) warned.
While discussing Arlington's outdated record-keeping over dinner one night last summer, Ricky — who had just gotten an A in his Programming 1 class at school — announced, "I can fix that." His mother didn't doubt it. She still remembered her older sons complaining they were locked out of the computer again because Ricky, age 4, had changed all the passwords.
"He was the kid who figured things out," Elisabeth Van Dyk, 46, said of her youngest. "He took apart remote controls and his brothers' toys and put them back together again. You could trust he knew what he was talking about."
Ricky didn't have his driver's license yet, so he hitched a ride with his mom on her 45-minute commute from their home in Stafford, Va., to her workplace in Washington. He hopped the Metro the rest of the way to the cemetery. This was July and he wanted an early start before the heat set in.
His focus was Section 60, where about 700 veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan are buried, more than anywhere else in the country. He combed all 18 acres of it, row by row, and found more than just names. At one grave was a baby's sonogram; he thought about the child who would never know his dad. He saw parents who looked a lot like his own, standing, staring.
Ricky took it all in. This is a side of service he had never fully appreciated, even for a military brat — his great-great-great-grandfather fought at Gettysburg, his father is a retired Army sergeant first class, his stepfather is a retired Navy lieutenant commander and both of his brothers are Air Force senior airmen. (He intends to apply to the Naval Academy at Annapolis and wants to be an officer.)
"Sometimes I look at the birth date and they are about the same age as my brothers, or a year older than me. It puts a whole new perspective on life to think there are 18- or 19-year-old kids who give their lives," he said.
One afternoon while he was out here taking pictures, a woman asked, "What number is my son?" She wanted to know where he fell in a casualty count that is nearing 6,000 for both wars. Ricky couldn't answer her, but later he told his mom that he didn't want them to be numbers; he wanted them to be remembered as people.
"From that point forward," his mom recalled, "it seemed to turn into more than a project."
He spent afternoons in a bookstore poring over Web development manuals for the right program language to create the site. At night, in his family's study, his computer hooked up to a 40-inch flat screen and his keyboard on a snack table in front of the couch, he input hundreds of names, photos, links to obituaries and newspaper accounts; he created a space to blog tributes.
By mid-October, the site was launched.
Army Times wrote him up. The local TV station did a piece. At North Stafford High, he was a minor celebrity. Friends and families around the country could view a loved one's grave thousands of miles away with the click of a mouse. So far, the site has received nearly 116,000 hits and about 300 emails, like the one from Jean Lockey, widow of Army Col. Jon M. Lockey, killed in Iraq on July 6, 2007: "I now have a site to go to when life overwhelms me, a place where I can pretend for a moment I am right there."
And Sarah Hall, mother of 1st Lt. Benjamin John Hall, killed in Afghanistan on July 31, 2007: "Ben was … the light of my life and I miss him every second of every day. To know that his loss is felt by others and acknowledged with such love and honor as you have shown here lifts my heart.…Thank you."
About 10% of the service members killed in Iraq and Afghanistan are at Arlington; the rest are in cemeteries around the country. Ricky's next goal is to enlist the help of the American Legion and record them all on the website. He figures it could be done in a few months.
But the work at Arlington is never really finished. Sadly, there are always graves to add, and he comes out every few weeks to update the list. That's what brings him here today, with his mom and stepdad, in the back seat of the silver Honda she said he could have if he stayed on the honor roll, which he did. (If his grades drop, she has threatened to sell the car for a dollar.)
He's eager to try out the Xoom. It's a gorgeous April Sunday after a hard rain. The red tulips stand straight as soldiers at the cemetery gates, but the grounds are soaked. Ricky starts patrolling the far end of Section 60 where the new arrivals are. It's muddy and his sneakers sink three inches into what he realizes is a grave so fresh the sod hasn't gone in yet. He winces and carries on. No way can he wear those shoes to school Monday.
That's what he's doing when Rosemary Brown spots him. She comes here twice a year — with her husband on the anniversary of Jason's death and by herself on his birthday in September. ("It's a Mom thing. That's my time.") In between, Ricky's website might be the next best thing.
"Continue this, please," she tells the boy she's only just met. He's shy and a little awkward, not so different from the one she raised. "It's so important that they never, ever be forgotten. Ever."
"I will," Ricky promises. "You can bet on it."
faye.fiore@latimes.com
Copyright © 2011 - LA TIMES
