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It was December 7, 1941 I was still asleep at eight o clock in the morning, when I got knock on my front door. It was one of my partners at my door with a look of sheer panic. His name was Frank Bowman; he was a heavy-set man in his early thirties. He was out of breath and red in the face, you could tell he had run to my house. He told me to grab my camera and get dressed as soon as possible. I was shocked and wanted to know what was going on but he acted as if he had no time to tell me. I threw on my clothes and went into my bathroom to put on some lipstick when Frank came storming in with my camera and said, “There’s no time, and we must leave now!” I calmly asked why but then demanded to know what was going on, it wasn’t right for a man to raise his voice at a younger girl like that. Frank looked at me in the most appalling way, then calmly said, “Pearl Harbor is being attacked.” After he said that I was in shock and felt like I couldn’t move. Frank then turned around and started to walk out saying, “Lets go!” I was nervous and didn’t know what to expect, this was my first real assignment. I had just been hir