Mike Morrison tacked to starboard, and the Mister Mike sailed cleared around the giant prow of the U.S.S. Nevada. The whole of Pearl Harbor was filled with the mighty ships of the United States Pacific fleet. It was early morning, Dec 7, 1941.

Later Mike remembered that he had grinned at his big brother, Jeff, Lt., USAF, then at Mary Jane, his shadow from next door. He had checked his watch—7:55 exactly. Then he had glance up at the sky to watch a small black speck grow large and larger. It couldn't be, but it was -- a Jap Zero! In seconds the harbor was a fiery inferno of sinking ships. The Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor!

What happened in the next few hours will never be forgotten by them—or by any American. The Air Corps fought back from crippled planes. Jeff, one of the lucky few, managed to get his P-40 fighter into the air to strike back. But those on land and sea did their jobs, too. Explosions rocked Wheeler Field, and Mary Jane pitched in with nurses and soldiers alike to save the lives of the injured.

It was Mike, however, who volunteered for the strangest assignment of all. As he paused on the edge of the boat ready to dive down to the men in the sunken ship, he knew that what happened next would be his greatest adventure.

Historical Consultant: Vice Admiral Willard A. Kitts, 3rd, USN (Ret.)

From the dust jacket