It’s been 79 years since President Franklin D. Roosevelt described Dec. 7 as a day that “would live in infamy.”
The 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor may have faded from the collective memory, but Tony Mann of the Ararat community in Surry County — his house bedecked with memorabilia and memories — vividly remembers.
It was the day his cousin and great uncle, both Chatham County natives, were killed.
At 8 a.m. on Sunday, Dec. 7, 1941, 19-year-old Army private Joseph Lockard — monitoring the Hawaiian island Oahu — was the first to notice something amiss.
Something on the radar screen was “larger than anything I had ever seen on radar before,” he said many years later. “I knew that something wasn’t right. I just didn’t know what.”
Lockard reported his observations to his superior, who told him not to worry — what he was seeing was likely a group of U.S. bombers returning from California.
A few minutes later, Lockard and his co-worker headed to their base for breakfast and saw smoke rising from Pearl Harbor. That “something” he and his buddy saw turned out to be airplanes from the Imperial Navy of Japan primed for a surprise attack on the American naval base at Pearl Harbor, an attack that killed 2,400 American servicemen, wounded 1,100 more and damaged or destroyed 20 vessels — including eight battleships — and about 300 fighter aircraft.
There were two waves of attacks that morning, and when the second was over, among those 2,400 casualties were two young sailors from Chatham County: Charles Willis Mann, Tony Mann’s cousin, age 20, of Pittsboro, who served on the USS West Virginia, and William Teasdale Durham, Tony’s great uncle, age 22, from a community north of Bynum, who was aboard the USS Arizona.
Both held the rank of Seaman First Class, whose requirements, the Navy said, were to know naval drill duties, knots, steering and signaling, to stand watch and perform gunnery duties.
Both sailors were battleship crew members. Mann was on the West Virginia, also known as the “Wee Vee,” which was hit by nine torpedoes, a quarter of all the Japanese torpedo strikes that day. After the attacks, the Wee Vee listed 15 degrees before quick action from the crew prevented it from capsizing. Fires broke out all across the ship, in part from explosions and in part from the inferno of the most-damaged ship, the USS Arizona, which was leaking oil. As flames consumed the ship, crew sought refuge on the battleship USS Tennessee, directly inboard of the West Virginia.
The sailors regrouped, began damage control and fought flames for 30 hours with hoses from the Tennessee. But eventually, the ship sank, and 106 died. (In time, the water in the hull was pumped out and the ship refitted enough to sail to the Puget Sound Navy Yard, where she was completely refurbished and sailed back to Pearl Harbor, continuing to fight in the Pacific throughout World War II. After numerous battles there, the West Virginia was present in Tokyo Bay when Japan formally surrendered Sept. 2, 1945.)
Durham was a crew member on the Arizona, whose sinking has been well documented. The death blow for the mighty warship came at 8:06 a.m. when a 1,760-pound Japanese armor-piercing bomb penetrated the Arizona’s decks 40 feet from the bow, igniting one million pounds of gunpowder kept for the ship’s 14-inch guns. More than 1,170 crewmen were killed; there were only 334 survivors.
Charles Mann and Will Durham’s exploits and heroism could easily have been lost among the thousands of like stories from that day, but their lives are well documented thanks to Tony. Among the items in his home are photographs, letters, written materials and service records, uniforms, medals and other artifacts from his two relatives. Some are especially meaningful to Mann, including the letter from Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox in which he wrote Durham’s parents, which said, in part: “It is hoped that you may find comfort in the thought that he made the supreme sacrifice upholding the highest traditions of the Navy in the defense of his country.”
Tony also has the Pittsboro High School Class of 1939 ring used to identify Durham’s body, which was found, like many others, floating in the water after the attack. And there’s a still-wrapped package from the ship’s cleaners, containing one of Durham’s freshly pressed uniforms.
Today, the two servicemen rest in cemeteries in adjoining counties.
Durham, who enlisted in March 1940 and came onto the Arizona that September, is buried in the Lystra Baptist Church cemetery.
Mann, whose family was part of the Browns Chapel Church community north of Pittsboro, enlisted in May of 1940 and came on board the West Virginia in September. His parents, O.W. and Sibie Mann, operated a store at the intersection of N.C. Hwy. 87 and Castle Rock Farm Road and are buried in the Browns Chapel Church cemetery. Charles Mann is buried at the Raleigh National Cemetery, a 7-acre military burial site. There is a memorial picture of him, made from a family photograph, in the fellowship hall of Browns Chapel.
Military service is a strong common thread among that larger Chatham family. In addition to Charles Mann and William Durham, there were other sailors in the family. Gene Durham, a crew member of the USS Comstock, who participated in a venture known as “Operation Wigwam,” held 500 miles off the California coast and designed to evaluate how well submarines could withstand atomic blasts. And Clarence Durham was a military policeman.
Once their time of service was over, the surviving Durham brothers returned to the family farm off Andrews Store Road in north Chatham where members of the Durham family have farmed the soil for 290 years. Originally part of an English land grant, the property has been in the family since Chatham County was part of Orange County. On that soil, Clarence and other family members, including his nephew Jeff Herndon, made hay, raised hogs — sometimes as many as 400 at a time — Charolais and Red Angus cattle, and even had a dairy. For 20 years while he farmed, Clarence worked as a postmaster and Gene was a rural mail carrier for 30 years.
They got a safety pin for every year they had no accidents. Both of them got pins for all 20 years.
“For 24 years on the farm,” Tony said, “Jeff was a lifesaver. He did so much to keep things going and help Clarence in so many ways as he grew older.”
Now as younger members of the extended family come along, the tradition of military service to country is continuing. Tony Mann’s son, Lt. Caleb Mann was a member of the first graduating class from Campbell University with a degree in Homeland Security. Today, he’s the Executive Officer for Military Police at Ft. Stewart, Georgia.
“He has an interest in the family history,” Tony said. “I’m glad. It’s important. We need to save it.”