George Tweed recounts how he spent the morning of December 8, 1941

From page 3 of Whittlesey House’s 1945 Robinson Crusoe, USN:

“Damn Leathernecks!” I swore, as rifle and machine gun fire penetrated my sleep. “You would come out here practicing and wake people up in the middle of the night!” It was three in the morning. I rolled over and went back to sleep.

Then I heard the field guns. First came the blast that sounded like a young cannon when the guns were first fired, then the report of the exploding shell. That woke me up and snapped me out of it. We Americans had no field guns on Guam.

“That’s not Marines! That’s Jap fire!”

I scrambled up, knowing exactly what I wanted to do…

I ran into the street, flung the groceries in the back of the car, and jumped in behind the wheel. As I stepped on the starter, Al shot down the steps and climbed in beside me. Gevarra jumped into the back seat. As I raced down the street, I realized that as soon as I turned into San Ramon, where the machine gun was set up, we had to climb a very steep hill. I didn’t want to stall on that hill. I was afraid to risk shifting gears. I thought that in the excitement I might get mixed up. So before we reached San Ramon, I put her in low gear and jammed that throttle down to the floor boards. The old jalopy sounded like a heavy ten-ton truck. It was a 1926 Reo, with a big six-cylinder engine, and it really let out a bellow. We roared around the corner and shot up the hill wide open. The machine gunner concentrated on us. He sent clip after clip stuttering our way. Bullets splattered all around us, hitting the street, the gravel and the rocks. Gevarra hugged the floor boards. It was only about two hundred yards up the hill, but scuttling along in low gear, and hearing the staccato of Jap machine gun bullets all around us, we thought it was a heluva long way.