Guest Column
Tamara Francis
Black History Month honors Pearl Harbor’s unsung hero
In the wake of the Sept. 11 attacks, we are reminded of the first attack on America that took place on Dec. 7, 1941. The Japanese attack of the American naval base at Pearl Harbor on the island of Oahu in Hawaii.
As we honor and remember the heroes of Sept. 11, we should celebrate and recognize the lives of other great heroes who emerged from Pearl Harbor on that historical day. Among such heroes was Doris Miller, a 22-year-old African American mess attendant who waited tables on board the battleship USS West Virginia. For Miller and all other black seamen, a second-class position as steward was the only one available for a black man in the U.S. Navy at the onset of World War II.
From sunup to sundown, life aboard the USS West Virginia consisted of serving food and clearing away the dirty dishes of white officers who perceived Miller as unimportant with barely an acknowledgment of his presence. After all, he was only a black steward, not a real fighting Navy man.
On Dec. 7, 1941, those perceptions were altered. It was just another routine day of laundry rounds for Miller on that fateful morning when Japanese torpedo planes disturbed the peace on the tranquil island of Oahu. Piercing bombs blasted and rocked the West Virginia as a call to duty echoed throughout the ship. Miller fought his way to his assigned battle station (even stewards were assigned stations and combat functions), through oil fires and heavy smoke only to be turned back by burning wreckage. He ran up the steel stairway and out onto the signal bridge where a seriously injured captain lay with an abdominal would caused by a large piece of metal. Totally disregarding the hurling bullets of Japanese aircraft, torpedo strikes from all sides, and the thick smoke engulfing the ship, Miller helped move Capt. Mervyn Bennion out of harm’s way to a more sheltered location.
Ignoring the onslaught of attacking Japanese dive bombers, Miller noticed an unmanned .50-caliber machine gun, a weapon he had never been trained or allowed to operate, and fired at the first low-flying Japanese aircraft. Much to his surprise, the plane burst into flames from one single hit. They came in closer, he fired again and another plane plunged into the Hawaii harbor. The unskilled marksman from Waco, Texas, continued to track enemy aircraft for 15 minutes until ordered to abandon the sinking vessel.
No one can question his heroism or deny his accomplishments on that dreadful day. Even so, Miller’s story was the one least acknowledged by a grudging military command structure. His acts of valor were not made public by the Navy until several months after the Pearl Harbor attacks. Only after a public campaign from civil rights organizations that reached all the way to the White House did Miller receive the honor he deserved.
On May 27, 1942, Adm. Chester Nimitz decorated Miller with the Navy Cross for his bravery at Pearl Harbor. The medal did not bring with it any special promotion or a transfer to a line of duty that may have given him a chance to distinguish himself further in service to his country. One can only imagine the anger and sense of betrayal he felt when he was promoted just one grade, to mess attendant first class.
Miller enjoyed a brief hero status as he toured the United States to promote support for the sale of war bonds. In 1943 he was reassigned to sea duty and his old job of waiting tables aboard the USS Liscombe Bay. On Nov. 24, 1943, Miller was among the 650 crewmen who perished when the Liscombe Bay was sunk by a Japanese submarine. Never to be seen again was Mess Attendant 1st Class Doris Miller — truly a World War II hero.
Recent legislation has been reintroduced by Congresswoman Eddie Bernice Johnson from Texas calling for the posthumous awarding of the Congressional Medal of Honor to Doris Miller.
Tamara Francis is a resident of South Brunswick