The Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, was not merely a beginning but also an end.
Certainly, the story was tabbed a the No. 1 nation/world story of the 20th Century by Press & Dakotan readers because, in so many minds, that day was the beginning of World War II for this nation. The United States was finally in it -- a reluctant combatant suddenly thrust into a war in the Pacific, then pulled into war in Europe just days later. The two-year-old conflict had finally overwhelmed the entire planet. And it set the stage for some of the most momentous personal experiences ever faced by many men and women, both on the front and at home.
However, no day in our memory ever so clearly brought an end to so much:
* The theory, practice and hope of isolation was obliterated like the warships sunk at Pearl Harbor. The national issue of entering the war had been deeply divisive in this country for several years -- up until one morning in December 1941.
The United States was embroiled against its will in a European war back in 1917-18, and the price paid for the involvement was high. "The War to End All Wars," it was called -- but it sadly wasn't.
Militarism began to rise again in Europe in the 1930s, as did imperialism in the western Pacific.
The prospect of fighting another world war was simply too much for those Americans who saw only uselessness in such interventions to accept yet again. Thus, the desire to remain isolated from the conflict -- "isolationism" -- was born. Several neutrality laws were passed during the 1930s, most geared to avoid a repeat of the circumstances that finally dragged America into the first world war.
Those laws worked, but they merely prevented a repeat of the past.
Nothing prepared this nation for what was to come.
* As isolation died, so too did the slow dance this country was doing by indirectly helping the England and France in their fight against Nazi Germany.
Washington carefully employed policies designed to aid the allies while technically claiming neutrality. President Franklin Roosevelt declared this nation "the arsenal of democracy" in 1940, and proceeded to realize that role. A draft was instituted in the autumn of 1940, and industrial production was stepped up to assist the beleaguered allied powers. The "Lend-Lease" policy of 1941 deepened our commitment to England, which by this time stood alone against Germany. The practice of employing convoys to escort material to England was also instituted.
But neutrality and isolationism became less relevant as hostilities intensified on the open seas. On Sept. 11, 1941, with American ships facing increasing German harassment, President Roosevelt ordered U.S. naval and merchant vessels to shoot on sight any Axis ships spotted in America's declared defense perimeter.
This was arguably the point of no return for the United States, for it was virtually a declaration of impending war. ("Against our will and against our grain," editorialized the Rapid City Journal at this time, "we guess it's now World War II.")
* America's indecision over entering a war against the fascist powers of Germany, Japan and Italy was rendered moot by the attack on Pearl Harbor. Instead of demoralizing the nation, the surprise assault galvanized American opinion and resolve in a way that could not have otherwise been possible. After that day of infamy, there was no more doubt, hesitation or dissent about what role the United States would play in the conflict.
America's shaky relations with Japan deteriorated rapidly in the summer of 1941. After Japan moved into French Indochina in late July, the United States froze all Japanese assets and effectively placed an embargo on that nation. It was a move the Japanese viewed as an act of war.
The two countries conducted earnest negotiations to diffuse the hostilities, but military action appeared inevitable. As early as Nov. 3, 1941, Joseph Grew, America's ambassador to Japan, warned his bosses in Washington that the Japanese may be planning a surprise attack on American positions.
On Nov. 11 -- Armistice Day -- the Press & Dakotan editorialized about "a sense of disillusionment and of resentment" in the air over the prospects of war. "There is an apparent and widespread reluctance to repeat our former experience if it can in any way possible ..."
America and Japan negotiated into late November. The U.S. rejected a Japanese proposal on Nov. 26, then made a last-ditch counterproposal. The Japanese quickly rejected the plan, but would not announce that fact until Dec. 7. (In fact, envoys were scheduled to deliver the message to U.S. officials in Washington at 1 p.m. Eastern time, just minutes before the Hawaii attack. Instead, the envoys did not deliver the message until 2:05 p.m., just after news of the attack had been received. Japan declared war on the United States that night.) Meanwhile, Japanese consulates in the United States secretly began burning secret documents on Dec. 3 -- four days before the surprise attack.
On Dec. 4, the P&D editorial page observed: "Japan obviously doesn't want to fight; she rather wants to win by bluffing." But the opinion writer then turned prophetic: "While the United States desires no war with Japan, it certainly isn't going to be bluffed or frightened, and if we are forced to do so, we will certainly clean up on the Japs with a relish."
Sunday morning, Dec. 7, 1941, plunged America into a war it didn't want, but it was a war for which this nation nevertheless had worked hard to prepare. But the strike at Pearl crippled America's already-outnumbered military presence in the Pacific. (The grim totals at Pearl: 19 U.S. ships, including six battleships, sunk or disabled; 2,403 soldiers, sailors and civilians killed, with another 1,178 wounded.)
The fact that this country could rally back industrially and win the war on such devastating terms may be America's crowning military achievement of the century.
Word of the attack swept across this nation; many people still recall in vivid detail where they were and what they were doing when they heard of the strike.
In Yankton, local officials tightened security around the airport, and the local American Legion formed a citizens defense corps to offer First Aid instruction to those interested.
Within days, coastal cities such as New York and San Francisco reported full-scale air raid alerts as a nervous panic set in across the country. (In fact, the only enemy activity ever reported on American soil amounted to a few shells lobbed from a Japanese ship on the Oregon coast in late December of that year.)
No such nerves were shown in land-locked South Dakota (even though one military expert had theorized that Nazi U-boats could make their way up the Mississippi and Missouri rivers and strike at targets in the state), but national fervor reached a full boil.
"Once before this nation was electrified into action against an aggressor and surprised the world by dropping its divisions overnight," the Press & Dakotan declared as a new age was ushered in and an old age was left in smoldering, angry debris.
"America will do the job, make no mistake about it."