Blair Martin, Contributing Writer
U.S. Navy photo by MC2 Michael A. Lantron - Pearl Harbor survivor Chief Cook Edward Gaulrapp (Navy Ret.), views the USS Arizona Memorial during a visit to historic Ford Island. Assigned to the Pearl Harbor-based, Perch-class submarine USS Pompano (SS 181), Gaulrapp was in his barracks when the Dec. 7, 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor began.
It has taken former Navy Chief Petty Officer Edward "Dutch" Gaulrapp more than 60 years to come back to Pearl Harbor to commemorate the 66th anniversary of the Dec. 7, 1941 attack and according to him, it took quite a bit of coaxing.
"I never wanted to come back," he said. But with some prodding from his family, the 85-year-old Pearl Harbor survivor reluctantly made the trip.
"My kids kept saying 'Dad, you have to come back because you ain't gonna live forever,'" he explained, tucking in the pockets on his naval uniform. "They kept telling me, 'You can't just sit on your memories. You have to go back to where they came from and bring them out again.' That is why I am here, for my family.'"
Gaulrapp said that he has mixed feelings about stepping back onto the base for the first time in over six decades. "There are a lot of old memories - some good, but some really lousy ones, too," he explained. When the first of the Japanese planes hit early the morning of Dec. 7, 1941, a then-18-year-old Gaulrapp was in the middle of a card game at the submarine barracks.
"We heard a loud explosion and looked at each other like 'what the hell is that' so we all went outside," he said. "At first we thought the Navy was practicing, but when we saw the Arizona go up in flames and they started sinking the ships beside her, we knew we were under attack."
The young seaman, who served as a baker for the USS Pompano (SS-181), a submarine that was away for repair in the states, was then issued a .30 rifle and ordered to shoot for "anything he could hit." "It all just scared the hell out of us," he recalled.
After the attack, Gaulrapp said he and others were sent out to view the wreckage at Battleship Row and look for survivors.
"We got in the patrol boats to pick up the bodies and it was awful looking down in that oily water," he remembered. "There were times when I would reach out for [what I thought was] an arm, and only half of one would come out of the water. I never could wear my whites again after that day. They were too dirty." Luckily, Gaulrapp said that when he returned to baking duty after a couple of days, his chief allowed him to work in his dungaree jeans until he was issued a fresh, new uniform.
Looking for Bud
For all of the memories he has of Pearl Harbor and its aftermath, Gaulrapp said only one to date stirs him up the most - looking for his best friend, Bud, after the attack. His friend, Alvin "Bud" Loring, a machinist's mate fireman, was aboard the USS Nevada during the attack. As children, Loring and Gaulrapp had grown up in St. Vincent's Catholic orphanage in Freeport, Ill. and became the best of friends. Eventually, with the permission of one of the priests, they joined the Navy together at the age of 17. Despite being assigned to different units, the friends, only a year into their budding naval service careers, had remained a close and all but inseparable pair until that fateful Sunday morning.
"I thought I had lost him," he said remembering his friend. Gaulrapp spent days personally looking for Loring and was relieved to find him at the hospital a few days later. Loring, however, had suffered severe burns and nerve damage from the attack on over two-thirds of his body. "He was burned like hell, but I was glad he was alive," said Gaulrapp.
Although Gaulrapp was lucky to not sustain any injuries from the attack, his friend's scars left a lasting impression on him. It made the young seaman more eager for the USS Pompano, his submarine, to return to Pearl Harbor so that he and his fleet "could get back to work and take care of things."
A fast learner in the kitchen, Gaulrapp said he was relieved to get back to his old duty as a baker for the Pompano. "The men sure took a liking to my baking," he chuckled. "I think their favorites were my homemade doughnuts, apple pie and cherry cobbler."
In enemy waters
Although the crew consisted of only 100 men, living quarters were tight, forcing Gaulrapp to bunk above a few torpedoes occasionally. Early in the war, he recalled a close call with the enemy.
While patrolling for Japanese vessels at Tokyo Harbor, the Pompano was briefly spotted entering enemy territory. In an attempt to dodge enemy fire, the Pompano quickly ducked but plunged too far, accidentally wedging herself in the bottom of Tokyo Harbor.
"We got stuck in the mud and were down there for 78 hours. We were low on gas and all of us nearly ran out of air," Gaulrapp described. Right when the skipper was about to "throw us to the dogs," he said, an engineering officer persuaded him otherwise. "He said, 'I know a way you can come out of this smelling like roses.' And we did!"
With her battery nearly exhausted, the Pompano, through a series of maneuvers, was able to free herself and finally surface. When she did, she spotted several Japanese sampans and freighters and eventually brought them down with gunfire.
"I still remember Tokyo Rose saying, 'We'll get you yet,'" Gaulrapp said, recalling his heroic tour with the Pompano. "But they didn't because I am still here today," he added with a laugh.
A full and successful naval career
During World War II, Gaulrapp made eight war patrols on several U.S. Navy vessels such as the USS Pompano, USS Haddock and the USS Runner. Throughout his 20-year naval career, he garnered more than 10 medals, including the Asian Pacific Medal (bronze star), National Defense Service medal (double bronze star) and the World War II Victory Medal, and earned a spot on the World War II Monument in Washington, D.C.
When Gaulrapp eventually retired, he continued his involvement with naval reunions and activities, as well as enjoyed an occasional visit from a former shipmate.
His daughter Lois Deininger, who was born on a naval base in Connecticut, said that the bedrock of their family has always been centered on her father's naval service. She noted that although her father never had any parents, he always had the Navy. "A lot of people ask him what it was like to be an orphan," she said. "And he would always say, 'How can you be an orphan on a ship with 100 men?' He may not have had a mom and dad, but he had 100 brothers."
Deininger, her family and close family friends, accompanied Gaulrapp on his trip to Pearl Harbor so that he can pay his respects before he dies. Although the trip is emotional, she regards it as a "blessing."
"As a daughter, the thing I appreciate most about my father is although he had a hard life, he never had a bad thing to say about it, not one bad thing about the orphanage or about the service," she said. "My father is proud of having been part of the military. The Navy has been his soul mate throughout his life."
As Deininger stood with her father at Ford Island, near the Arizona Memorial, she gently held his hand and together they quietly observed the splendid landmark glowing in the distance touched by the vibrant Hawaiian sun. After a long pause, his eyes welled up and he turned back to his family and friends waiting near the car. His words were few, but they were clear: "I think I am glad we made the trip."
