_TSgt Henry H. Anglin, the noncommissioned officer in charge of Ewa’s
Photography Section, stands before the mooring mast field’s dispensary
on 8 December 1941, solemnly displaying the slug that wounded him on
the 7th._]
Pilots and ground crewmen alike rushed out onto the mat to try to save
their planes from certain destruction. At least a few pilots intended
to get airborne, but could not because most of their aircraft were
either afire or riddled beyond any hope of immediate use.
Captain Milo G. Haines of VMF-211 sought safety behind a tractor, he
and the machine’s driver taking shelter on the side opposite to the
strafers. Another Zero came in from another angle, however, and strafed
them from that direction. Spraying bullets clipped off Haines’ necktie
just beneath his chin. Then, as a momentarily relieved Haines put his
right hand at the back of his head a bullet lacerated his right little
finger and a part of his scalp.
In the midst of the confusion, an excited three-year-old Hank Anglin
innocently took advantage of his father’s distraction with the battle
and wandered toward the mat. All of the noise seemed like a lot of
fun. Sergeant Anglin ran after his son, got him to the ground, and,
shielding him with his own body, crawled some 35 yards, little puffs
of dirt coming near them at times. As they clambered inside the radio
trailer to get out of harm’s way, a bullet made a hole above the door.
Moving back to the photo tent, the elder Anglin put his son under
a wooden bench. As he set about gathering his camera gear to take
pictures of the action, a bullet went through his left arm. Deprived
of the use of that arm for a time, Anglin returned to the bench under
which his son still crouched obediently, to see little Hank point to a
spent bullet on the floor and hear him warn: “Don’t touch that, daddy,
it’s hot.”
[Illustration: