Now 83, Willey was living with her husband Jim, an Army captain, ten miles from Pearl Harbor.
It was a quiet morning, and we were lying in bed, talking about what the day would bring. Suddenly I heard the sound of planes, and I said, "Those aren't our planes." Jim called his base and asked if he should come down. They said no.
The sound got louder, and he called back. "Get the hell down here," they told him. By then there was no doubt we were being attacked. They were machine-gunning the road -- dirt splashing all over. A bomb...
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