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Valley survivors remember Pearl Harbor attack
RELATED: • Pearl Harbor survivors: profiles
By WILLIAM K. ALCORN
alcorn@vindy.com
YOUNGSTOWN
Every military survivor of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor remembers where he was and what he was doing when the attack started just before 8 a.m. – his brush with death, and the chaos and heroism during those fateful, horrific 90 minutes.
Dec. 7 is the 75th anniversary of the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor and other American military facilities in Hawaii that propelled the United States into World War II.
Killed in the attack were 2,403 U.S. military personnel; an additional 1,000 were wounded. Also, 68 American civilians were killed.
The attack destroyed or damaged 19 Navy ships, including eight battleships, and more than 300 aircraft.
Among the survivors is Robert Bishop of West Austintown, a fire controlman (Navy designation for person who operates surface ships’ weapons systems) aboard the USS Tennessee anchored in Pearl Harbor, and Adone Calderone of Jackson Township near Massillon, formerly of Niles, who was a Navy band member aboard the USS West Virginia, which was anchored near the Tennessee and was sunk during the Japanese attack.
“We were hit by eight torpedoes and four bombs and one bomb that didn’t go off, thank God, or we’d have been another Arizona,” Calderone said.
The USS Arizona Memorial, located at Pearl Harbor in Honolulu, marks the resting place of 1,102 of the 1,177 sailors and Marines killed on the Arizona during the surprise attack.
Bishop and Calderone did not know each other at the time, but being Mahoning Valley residents and members of the now-disbanded Pearl Harbor Survivors Association, became friends in later years.
Bishop, who will be 96 on Dec. 19, was in his living compartment on the Tennessee when the attack began.
He said he didn’t immediately know what was going on, but when general quarters was sounded he rushed to his battle station in the main battery control room in the bowels of the Tennessee where he stayed during the 90-minute attack and beyond.
Water-tight integrity was initiated to keep the huge battleship afloat after it was hit by two bombs, one each in two of its three turrets, Bishop said.
“We sweated so much from the heat that we literally had to swab the deck. After about two hours, we broke water-tight integrity, which gave us fresh air, and we were released from battle stations about noon,” Bishop said.
When the West Virginia was sinking and on fire, it rolled against the Tennessee.
“The fire was so intense, it penetrated our stern section,” Bishop said.
Calderone’s military duty was communications and damage control.
When the attack came, he headed toward his battle station and found it destroyed.
“When the torpedoes hit, the ship shook like a rag doll. We went down a couple of decks looking for safety. The ship was listing 28 degrees and the left side was on the bottom. Water was coming in and it was up to our necks. I thought we were going to drown. We were all holding hands; we didn’t want to lose each other. Somebody said there was a compartment above us so we went for it.”
“I was thinking about my mother. I just kept fighting and fighting ... up a tube and ended up on the deck.
“A guy pulled me through. I thought I was going to die. He touched my face and I touched his. We called each other ‘brother,’” Calderone said.
“When I got on deck, there was a huge explosion that knocked me on my ass. I was hit in the face with a piece of shrapnel. Guys were coming in boats to save us and took me to the hospital. I saw guys burned to the bone. I had a little burn on my back from the heat and someone said, ‘You just earned a Purple Heart.’ I didn’t want it and I didn’t want to stay in the hospital and made my way back to my ship,” Calderone said.
Some few Pearl Harbor survivors, such as Bishop and Calderone, now in their mid- to late-90s, still tell their stories. But most Pearl Harbor survivors are deceased, as are most other WWII veterans.
According to the Department of Veterans Affairs, about 492 U.S. WWII veterans die each day, meaning that there are about 855,070 veterans remaining of the 16 million who served during WWII.
They can no longer tell their stories themselves, but in many cases, their voices and experiences are given life through their recorded words and memories and memorabilia shared with their families.
Army Capt. John Prosenjak’s story, for example, is told by his son, Stephen Prosenjak of Palm Springs, Fla., and daughter, Rosie Prosenjak Marich of Austintown.
The elder Prosenjak, a 1939 graduate of Ohio State University and its ROTC program, was in charge of a Signal Corps company with the 25th Infantry Division stationed at Schofield Barracks next to Wheeler Field, whose parked planes made it an important Japanese target.
According to Prosenjak’s children, when the first bomb hit, their father ran out of his barracks in his underwear to see what was going on.
At first, he wasn’t sure if it was an attack or an accident such as an ammunition dump blowing up.
When he saw Japanese planes dive-bombing the airfield and buildings at Schofield, he knew it was no
accident.
Prosenjak was not hurt in the attack, but unusual circumstances enabled him to escape injury or possible death.
He had slept in on Dec. 7, a Sunday, after celebrating n Dec. 6 his impending discharge on Dec. 8, and did not attend Sunday Mass as normal.
His church was leveled by the bombing during Mass and many were killed and wounded.
When the bombing stopped, Prosenjak worked to restore the communications command center on Schofield, which had been severely damaged.
Upon returning to Ohio and being discharged in January 1946 after six years of active duty, Prosenjak continued his military career in the Army Reserves for 27 years as an instructor and student. He graduated from the Command and General Staff College and the Army War College and advanced to the rank of colonel before retiring in 1973 after 33 years’ service.
“Dad was well-known and respected in the community as a teacher, baseball player, coach, referee, adjunct professor at Youngstown State University, and most of all, father to a family of four,” his children said.
Neither was the attack on Pearl Harbor the end of Bishop’s and Calderone’s military careers.
After being repaired, the USS Tennessee spent another 41⁄2 years in the Pacific Theater, with Bishop aboard, before being put out of commission by a kamikaze plane.
“Seven planes made a run at us ... we got six. Suicide planes were terrible,” Bishop said.
During those 41⁄2 years after Pearl Harbor, the USS Tennessee participated in 13 major amphibious actions and one major sea battle, the Battle of Surigao Strait, Bishop said.
After the Tennessee was knocked out by the kamikaze plane, Bishop was offered his choice of billets: Fire controlman for 14-inch guns on a ship or desk duty in Washington, D.C.
“I was tired of box lunches, getting no sleep and being attacked, and opted for the Washington, D.C., billet,” he said.
Bishop finished service stateside, but stayed in the Naval Reserve and was called back to active duty during the Korean War and spent his time sailing around the Mediterranean Sea on the USS Shenandoah, a repair ship.
“I love the Navy,” he said.
Bishop and his childhood sweetheart, Doris, who were married on Jan. 11, 1943, have three daughters, Joy Bayless and Gay Blackann, both of Austintown, and Sue Carroll Blake in Florida, five grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren.
Bishop, who has visited Pearl Harbor several times, will attend the Wednesday ceremony commemorating the 75th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor, accompanied by his daughter, Gay, and her husband, John.
“My health isn’t that good. This might be my last chance,” Bishop said.
Leo J. Zappa, originally of Farrell, Pa., was driving a cab in San Diego in September 1939 when he enlisted in the Army.
He was one of five brothers who served in WWII, said his only child, Leo J. Zappa of Center Township in Beaver County, Pa.
The elder Zappa died in 1993, and his wife, Helen, died in 1994. After the war, Zappa, who dropped out of high school in his junior year to get a job, worked at Westinghouse Electric’s Transformer Division in Sharpsville, Pa., until he retired.
When the Pearl Harbor attack occurred, then-Private 1st Class Zappa, 24, was assigned to the 27th Infantry Regiment, of the 25th Infantry Division at Schofield Barracks on Oahu.
Zappa said his father, one of 11 men from Farrell who were on Oahu the day of the attack, never made it back to Hawaii, but he talked about it from time to time.
“Pearl Harbor was an unforgettable experience for my dad. Ironically, he was scheduled to ship out and be discharged from the Army on Dec. 8. His buddies were even getting ready to have a party for him ... obviously that didn’t happen.
“He told me that when the attack began there was general confusion at first. When they realized they were under attack, they rushed into action as best they could.
They lugged their heavy, water-cooled .30-caliber machine guns up to the roof of their barracks building; but by the time someone had secured ammunition and got sufficient water up to the roof to cool the guns, the attack was over,” Zappa’s son said.
In the afternoon, Zappa and some others went down to Pearl Harbor to see if they could help.
“I remember him telling me about seeing rows of covered bodies laid out on the shore and piers,” Zappa said.
When it became clear there was not going to be an invasion, Zappa’s unit began training for the landing on Guadalcanal in November 1942 and later the Battle of New Georgia, after which he contracted malaria and was discharged in late 1944.
After the war, Zappa and other Farrell men stationed on Oahu on the day Pearl Harbor was attacked had annual reunions for many years. Zappa was one of the first members of the Farrell, Pa., VFW post, and his brother, Carl, who served in the Army’s 99th Division at the Battle of the Bulge in Europe, is a past post commander.