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 CHAPTER I

CAPTAIN HAYDEN SANG in his shower.

The sounds that rose above the gurgle and splash of the plumbing might not have been recognized by many as song, but to the captain's family the sound indicated that to the head of the house all was right with that peaceful, sunny morning of December 7, 1941.

It was one of Hawaii's brightest. Pearl Harbor was unusually full of big ships gleaming in the early-morning sun. Among the eighty-six ships of the Pacific Fleet moored there, there were eight battleships, seven cruisers, twenty-eight destroyers, and five submarines. For days the air had tingled with bugles and with something else, though less easy to define. Not in months had the base been so full and so busy.

Upstairs, in Captain Hayden's quarters, the sounds from behind the shower curtain became staccato: "K—K—K—Katy!" Like most Navy captains, Hayden's musical repertoire was of the vintage of 1918. That particular number was produced in response to a sluice of extra-cold water. Through the chattering of his own teeth he heard, suddenly, the roar of planes approaching and flying low over the quarters. This was immediately followed by a violent explosion.

Let him tell it in his own words:

"I didn't pay much attention to this. The Naval Hospital is