Editor’s note: About two weeks ago, The Register Citizen was notified by a local funeral home that the recently identified remains of a WWII sailor, lost in the attack on Pearl Harbor, Dec. 7, 1941, had arrived in Connecticut for burial. Not long after, a representative from POW/MIA CT Forget-Me-Nots, Inc. contacted us on behalf of Ensign Joseph P. Hittorff Jr.’s family asking that we not seek an interview. The family, however, provided a great deal of information about Hittorff’s life and service. Hittorff served on the USS Oklahoma and his long-overdue funeral will take place in Kent on June 18. Hittorff’s cousin, Dianne Lang, wrote the following piece about her relative and how his remains came home.
As a baby boomer who missed World War II by a few years, I never thought much about how the war had impacted the older generation who lived through it. We certainly studied it in school, but it somehow seemed remote to me. I do remember the infrequent occasions when my uncle, Robert Keene, would reluctantly talk about the time he spent in an army tank. I just knew it had been an awful experience for him. I also remember my father, Philip Camp, talking about the rough treatment farmers were given during the last call for recruits before the war ended. He was the sole support for a multi-generational family unit, and a food producer, so had been deferred up until that point. Farmers were almost considered anti-American by some in the military as they had not been expected to serve. No one spoke much about those times, and I felt disconnected from that period in history.
Then everything changed. My mother, Marie Camp, was contacted by Robert Valley, Volunteer Coordinator of the USS Oklahoma families. Information had been uncovered by a researcher that led him to believe that the remains of my mother’s first cousin, Ens. Joseph Parker Hittorff, Jr. could now be identified.
Previously knowing little beyond Joe’s name and that he died on the USS Oklahoma at Pearl Harbor, I had a lot of questions. My mother was able to give me some basic information as she is the family’s unofficial historian. She remembered some visits by Joe and his family to her family home on Birch Hill in Kent, CT. Joe’s sister, Marion, now 98, is in a nursing home in New Jersey {now deceased}. While still mentally alert, she has some medical problems and limited ability and energy to deal with this new information. Marion had referred Robert Valley to her cousin (my mother), who asked me to help.
We were informed that there were 27 “unknowns” buried in three grave sites. While the identities of the individual remains were not known, the researcher found paperwork indicating the names of all who were buried in each of the three graves. For some unstated reason, the anthropologist at the time refused to sign the necessary paperwork. What was needed was a DNA test to help in the identification process.
Ahh, then the red tape started. My mother’s DNA and mine were not useful as we were not related maternally to Joe. This meant that Marion was really the only remaining person with DNA close enough to give a match. My mother and I were asked to go retrieve a DNA sample from Marion, but neither of us was up for the drive to New Jersey. I felt out of my depth, so I turned to Kathy Shemeley, a colleague and friend who is the driving force behind the CT POW/MIA group. With her encouragement and knowledge of the system, initial contacts were made. We hoped someone from the military could go and administer the swab. Well, the request had to come from Marion; and they needed reassurance that we were speaking for the whole family; and because she was in a nursing home, the management needed to be contacted; and please supply family history information; and she needed identification papers to prove she was who she said she was; and on and on. Piece by piece we took care of each request and found ways to go around the endless roadblocks. We had a lot of courteous and efficient help from the military along the way, but it was clear that each and every regulation had to be followed to the letter, ma’am. Finally several officers from the military in full dress uniform visited Marion, to the delight of all the elderly and staff at the nursing home. The DNA sample was taken, and we thought things would now move along.
I began to try to find out as much as I could about Joe. His picture showed a handsome, serious young man. My mother had a copy of a hand-written letter from Herbert Rommell, a shipmate of Joseph’s on the Oklahoma. He provided some details of that fateful day. “When the alarm sounded, he (Joe) went to the engine room to get the ship underway. When last seen, he was in the machine shop, which is right above the engine room. The ship was hit by many torpedoes in rapid succession and keeled over rapidly. Some of the men down there abandoned ship, but Joe decided to stay and attempt to get the ship underway, and he went back down to the starboard engineroom.” Herbert goes on to tell about what happened to himself and some of the others, but knew nothing further of Joe’s fate. Rommell in his letter said, “Maybe these additional details will make you sad—and it would have been better if I hadn’t written—but they should also make you proud. After all, we all must die, and what could be better, but for a fighting man to go in action. What counts is not when we must go, but how we go, and how we have lived. Joe was truly an officer and a gentleman. He was a good fellow---would come with us to the Officer’s Club or to the town’s night spots—but he was always a credit to himself, to his folks, and to the Navy.” I then googled Herbert Rommell to see if I could find him and thank him for those kind words so long ago. Sadly, I realized that he had recently died and I could learn nothing further from him about Joe.
Another on-line article told about Marvin Hume, Joe’s childhood friend from Collingswood, NJ where the two grew up with another good buddy, Walter Simon. He speaks of his rage and horror at hearing of the deaths of Joe and Walter. He immediately enlisted in the US Navy. Now, in his eighties, he conducts a daily flag ceremony on Sunset Beach near Cape May to honor the U.S. war veterans, as he has done for the past 33 years. The article by Warren Hynes ends: “Hume shrugs off any notion that he’s a hero. He’d rather praise his childhood buddies, Hittorff and Simon, who made the ultimate sacrifice. ‘I don’t do it for accolades,’ Hume says. ‘I do it because of how I feel inside.’”
Further research indicated that Joseph was in the index of a book called Pearl Harbor Survivors by Harry Spiller. Obtaining a copy through interlibrary loan, I was shocked to find an account of Joe’s last moments. Ens. Adolph D. Mortensen authored the chapter on the Oklahoma’s fate. He talked about the chaos in great detail, telling of the torpedo hits and the general confusion about what was happening to those below decks. Although they had routinely practiced “man overboard” and other drills, no one had addressed when or how to abandon ship. “For the first time that day I saw the division officer, Ens. Joe Hittorff and our Warrant Machinist, Bill Goggins. Joe looked at me and said, ‘Abandon ship.’ I felt some relief. Finally someone over me had said it.” According to Mortensen, the ship was listing badly, and all the loose items and furniture were jumbled on the floor, making walking a challenge. Hatches were difficult or impossible to open because the ship was rolling rapidly onto its side. The water began rising, and only a few men were able to make their way out. “We went aft, Joe Hittorff, Bill Goggins, and I past the ladder which led to the first deck.” There was a small hatch opening, but men were lined up trying to squeeze through. “I turned my attention to making my way aft to Chief’s quarters. Hittorff and Goggins were just ahead of me.” They continued over to the port side where there were portholes, arriving there just as the ship quickly began to roll over and take on water. Apparently the Oklahoma had been moored to the USS Maryland as they lay in port. Fearful that the Maryland would be pulled over by the listing Oklahoma, the decision was made to cut the tethers. At this point, the Oklahoma went over rapidly until its mast hit the bottom. “The water continued to rise inside and the ship continued to slowly roll. I soon found myself treading water and watching the ship as it rolled slowly above my head. I looked around quickly and could not see Hittorff and Goggins. I assume that in time I averted my eyes and watched the ship. They both slipped beneath the surface and drowned. I was told later that neither could swim.” A few men who were able to tread water were now trapped with a small bubble of air. They managed to get a porthole open that was now below water. Diving down and helping each other, they were able to push individuals down and out of the porthole where they then bobbed to the surface covered with oil. At that point, they were either rescued in boats or swam to safety.
I have summarized Mortensen’s story, leaving out a lot of the heartbreaking and horrific details of the fates of men other than Joe. Knowing what happened to Joe gives closure, but also tells a story that is haunting in its starkness and bleakness.
Back in the present, progress is slow. A staggering number of military remains have not yet been matched to individuals. Over 73,000 veterans from WWII alone have never been identified. The backlog for the DNA identification facilities is incredible. Recently, more funding has been awarded to increase the capacity of these labs, but it’s still a drop in the bucket.
One of the graves cited by the Oklahoma researcher has recently been exhumed as some DNA samples from relatives have been obtained. A startling result! Instead of the remains of 5 individuals in the one casket, there are at least 46 individuals represented. How could this be? Further research provided more information. Eighteen months after the attack, the Oklahoma was finally righted. At this point, the remains were only bones. It was expected that there would be a group burial. All of the recovered skulls were put in one casket, all of the femurs in another, and so on, meaning all of the remains were mixed. After the request for a group burial was rejected, the people in charge were directed to put the parts representing a complete skeleton together. Their only recourse was to choose the parts that they felt might have belonged together. Hence the confusion.
Where does this leave the family of Joseph Hittorff? We have contacted members of the House of Representatives to express our concerns. In these uncertain economic times, money may well be directed to more pressing areas. Hopefully the second grave with Joe’s supposed remains will be investigated soon. It may depend upon how many families of the other servicemen listed as being in that grave have been located. What will be found if the grave is disinterred? Will there be closure for our family and others? At least we know pretty much that his remains are somewhere in the Punchbowl Cemetery in Hawaii, unlike those relatives whose family members are truly missing in action with no closure. There is always hope that answers will be found and identifications made for all of our POWs and MIAs. I am very thankful that our family has been treated so kindly and professionally by all involved in our quest. I am also grateful to the many who gave their lives so future generations would have a better life.
Years have gone by since I originally wrote this piece. Things seem to now be moving forward. If Joe’s remains are uncovered and identified, where do we go from here? His sister, before she died a few years ago, had mixed feelings. She finally concluded that she thought he should just stay buried with his friends. Now with the possibility of his fellow shipmates being identified and sent for burial in their own home towns, this no longer seems to be an option. Perhaps it would be best to bring him to Kent, CT for burial in a family plot here.
Fast forward to February/March of 2016. The phone rings and by the caller ID, I see only the word “veteran” leaping out at me. I take a deep breath, thinking this is the news we have long been awaiting. Let the breath out – someone seeking money who is not interested to hear that I only support local veteran organizations. Then another call. Mom and I have been contacted by a researcher for the Navy. She is looking for help in finding the oldest living relative of Joe’s. I immediately infer but am not told that Joe’s remains have been identified. I restrain myself from asking, as I know it all has to go through the proper channels, and it might put her on the spot unfairly. She sounds wonderful on the phone and seems deeply invested in her task. She tells me she often gets caught up in the lives of those she is researching. I can well believe it. I again send her all of Mom’s research on this branch of the family, but I wonder if there is a “hidden” relative on Joe’s mother’s side that we don’t know about. The researcher tells me that some families get caught up in a conflict over the remains since the family tree has widened with the passing of multiple generations. I reassure her that we just want to see Joe come home and be buried with the proper recognition and there won’t be a fight over who does it. I use the word “home”, and wonder what that means. Joe was from New Jersey, and this is Connecticut. His parents are buried in Greenlawn with no possible room for another grave. His sister was buried in her friend’s plot. We have an extra spot in my mother’s parent’s family grave site. He could be buried next to his aunt and uncle overlooking the Housatonic River. Just down the river a couple of miles is where Joe came up from his home in New Jersey on occasion and played as a youngster with his cousins. Some of his father’s Hittorff siblings had houses next to each other on Birch Hill. I know our local veterans will see that his grave gets the proper recognition. Our extended family all seems content that this seems the best solution of all the options if and when Joe is identified.
March 7, 2016 the phone rings. Caller ID gives no helpful information, and I almost hang up the phone as we have been plagued with a rash of telemarketers. Totally caught off-guard, it is the call we have been waiting for. Joe has been identified, and we will have a formal visit the first week of April. I am happy that after 74 years and 3 months to the day, the family has gotten word that he is no longer missing in action.
We are nearing closure for Joe. I wonder later if my joyful voice was inappropriate. Sadness comes at other times as I look at this picture of a relative I never knew who gave his life for all of us. He was young, handsome, and by all accounts, a nice gentleman of good character. I wish he had had the opportunity to experience a full life with all that it might have brought. I wonder if I would have ever met him.
http://www.registercitizen.com/article/RC/20160610/NEWS/160619945
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