Courtesy Photo | Pictured here is the marble memorial inside the USS Arizona Memorial. (Photo courtesy...... read more read more Courtesy Photo | Pictured here is the marble memorial inside the USS Arizona Memorial. (Photo courtesy of Sonar Technician Submarines 1st Class Christopher Nelson) see less | View Image Page

By Petty Officer 1st Class Christopher Nelson

Task Group Trident UPAR/Task Force Titan Public Affairs



CAMP SABALU-HARRISON, Afghanistan – I am Sonar Technician Submarines 1st Class Christopher Nelson. I have served on four submarines including the USS Bremerton and USS Chicago both stationed in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. My time at Pearl Harbor was between October 2006 and October 2009. As we near Dec. 7, I want to take a moment to express the influence Pearl Harbor and its history has had on my naval career.



I come from a military family. My father, Jerry, served in the Army during the Vietnam War. My grandfather, Steve, served in the Army and fought in World War II. He served on the Western Front, ranging from France to Germany. Additionally, my Uncle Jim was a sailor out of Whidbey Island, Wash., and my Uncle Jack served in both the Army and the Marines. He served two tours in Vietnam and received a Purple Heart. They instilled in me a sense of pride and service to our great nation and inspired me to be the best American I know how to be.



I developed a love for the sea at a young age, and college didn’t sound appealing, so I enlisted in the Navy after high school. I was on my way to sailing the high seas, head high and chest out, proud to be serving my country.



My journey, which eventually led me to Pearl Harbor, began at Great Lakes, Ill., Navy boot camp Aug. 9, 2001. Little did I know that four short weeks later, our country would be struck without warning.



I was in boot camp when the Sept. 11 attacks took place. The recruit division commanders (drill instructors) pulled us out of training, brought us into our berthing (barracks), and informed us of the deliberate attack; it was the first on American soil since the attack on Pearl Harbor. There was an instant wash of emotions and thoughts. I was here, in the military, not fully trained, upset and uncertain; but most of all, I was angry.



I took that anger and focused it on being the best sailor I could be. I graduated from boot camp in October and departed for Naval Submarine School in Groton, Conn. There, the instructors take fresh sailors and lay the foundation for becoming a submariner. I absorbed every bit of information they threw at me, as though some day, my life and the lives of my brothers would depend on it.

After graduation, we were finally given our rates, or specific jobs. I would be a sonar technician. In the meantime, our country’s physical security posture changed. My new classmates and I found ourselves standing watch over the submarine base and the assets on the waterfront. Our job, despite being not fully-trained submariners, was to protect the assets at all costs. Looking back, I see that we were born into the Navy during our generation’s Pearl Harbor. I know that experience has molded me into the sailor I am today.



Throughout sonar training, our class knew we would have missions for us that would directly affect national security, and we would be at the tip of the spear that is a modern nuclear-powered submarine.



Tally to this point: boot camp, submarine school, and sonar tech class-A school. Yet, walking aboard my first boat, I still was not a submariner. To become accepted into the brotherhood of submariners would take another nine grueling months of learning the practical application of submarine skills. We started with a solid foundation of knowledge, but we were a long way from being able to apply new skill sets under water with nowhere to go if something went wrong. To be a submariner, you have to prove your mettle under pressure to everyone in the crew. I qualified in submarines Sept. 13, 2003, and finally, I was a fully-qualified submariner.



I tell you my background to explain the amount of dedication and drive I have that began with the 9/11 attacks.



As an E-5, or petty officer second class, I headed off to my most rewarding and influential duty station, Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. My new boat was the USS Bremerton, a fast-attack submarine. When I stepped off the plane, my new leading petty officer, met me with a beautiful lei and an “aloha.” I knew then and there it would be a great tour.



At first, the sheer beauty of the island stops you in your tracks; you just want to stare out over the place for a bit. Then, the thoughts of lessons learned in history class came back to me, and I recalled that servicemen from my grandfather’s generation faced the gravest danger on the very spot where I stood. Everywhere I went, I thought to myself, “Right here the Japanese dropped bombs and rained lead.”



Looking towards the valley I thought, “They came from that direction, it was a normal lazy Sunday morning.”



I would then think to myself, “Today is Sunday.” I eventually found myself taking day trips around the island with a history book that detailed the events of Dec. 7, 1941, reading and looking around, imagining what it must have felt like that day. Emotions swirled in my head, some about Dec. 7, and some about 9/11. I felt as hurt and vulnerable as I imagine my fellow Americans did some 60 years before.



During a class I attended on Ford Island, I spent my lunch hour staring at the runway control tower or the still-standing hangars complete with bullet holes.



I would think, “How incredibly insane it must have been!” Still, it reminded me of why I was there, and it affirmed my sense of duty. My favorite part of Ford Island was the Sierra Pier. I sat and watched the sun rise over the USS Arizona while I drank my morning coffee.



I have been to Ground Zero in New York, and now I was living at the Ground Zero from my grandparents’ day.



Being in Pearl Harbor filled me with a sense of honor and service that is hard to explain. The date Dec. 7, 1941, still lives in infamy. Pearl Harbor continues to be somewhere Americans do what Americans do - we pull together as one family to fight back: fight back to fix, to nurse, or just to be a caring shoulder to lean on when our fellow Americans need us. This was my turn to stand watch and never forget our brave and courageous Americans who lived and died on Oahu, Dec. 7, 1941.