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MASSARO: Smell of coffee stirs memories of Pearl Harbor

By Gary Massaro, Rocky Mountain News (Contact)

Published December 6, 2008 at 12:05 a.m.

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World War II veteran George Fabrizio, 94, of Wheat Ridge, was making coffee on the USS St. Louis when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. "In the Navy, there are no heroes," he said. "I'm just proud of the ship I was on."

Photo by Matt McClain / The Rocky

World War II veteran George Fabrizio, 94, of Wheat Ridge, was making coffee on the USS St. Louis when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. "In the Navy, there are no heroes," he said. "I'm just proud of the ship I was on."

Fabrizio's ship, the USS St. Louis, is shown with battle damage in a World War II-era photo. Fabrizio served on the light cruiser, dubbed "Lucky Lou" by its crew, from Pearl Harbor to the end of the war.

Photo by Courtesy Of George Fabrizio

Fabrizio's ship, the USS St. Louis, is shown with battle damage in a World War II-era photo. Fabrizio served on the light cruiser, dubbed "Lucky Lou" by its crew, from Pearl Harbor to the end of the war.

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George Fabrizio had just made a pot of coffee when the Japanese launched a sneak attack on Pearl Harbor 67 years ago.

He was below decks in the engine room office of the USS St. Louis, a light cruiser dubbed "Lucky Lou" by its sailors. He was brewing coffee for the guys on his short-handed crew.

"They had let half the crew ashore, so we only had half," he said. "We were working like crazy, putting pumps back together."

After the attack started, Fabrizio donned headphones to keep in touch with a buddy on the bridge, who kept a running commentary.

A bomb hit aft, but in the water. Another hit the USS Honolulu, tied up next to the St. Louis.

"The concussion knocked us into the bilge," Fabrizio said. "It shook the heck out of us."

He didn't get to see any of the attack, which destroyed much of the Pacific Fleet and brought the U.S. into World War II.

"It was mostly sounds," he said. "You could hear it."

Sailors were ordered to their battle stations. Fabrizio's was in the engine room, where he continued to put stuff back together.

Being on a big-gun crew wouldn't have done much good anyway.

"We couldn't fire back," Fabrizio said. "You needed electricity to fire the guns. And all the electricity was off because they were working on it. We were getting fitted for radar. We had to work our butts off to get things back together. We had to get steam to the turbines."

About three hours after the attack started, the St. Louis put out to sea.

"The Nevada (which had been damaged in the attack) was blocking the channel. We had just enough room to get out," Fabrizio said. "You could hear the propellers grinding the coral."

His ship made it out safely, then patrolled the ocean for three days, looking for the enemy. There was no sign.

"We had four hours on, four off," he said. "You didn't sleep."

Fabrizio saw the aftermath of the attack on his way back to Pearl when he stood on deck.

"All you could say, "he recalled, "was 'Oh, my God.' "

There were no tears, only anger. And concern.

"We all wondered what we'd do if they came back," he said. "They made a mistake by not sending in a landing force."

Fabrizio, 94, shows few signs of his age - a hearing aid in each ear, no hair to brag about or to comb. But he's still so sharp you could slice steak with him. And he has a smile that keeps coming back.

World War II was his second tour in the Navy. The first time he joined up, he was fresh out of Brighton High School in 1933.

"I went five years," he said. "I played sports. But there were no jobs at the time."

So he took some business courses, including shorthand, which stood him well in his second hitch when he became a yeoman.

After he got out in 1937, he went to work for the old Trailways bus line, getting an office job.

"My old coach, Stewie Newell, was in charge of the baggage rooms. I ran into him, and he told me there'll be an opening upstairs," Fabrizio said.

About a year later, he drove his accordion-playing cousins to a job. They introduced him to the former Rose Marie Narracci.

They were married in 1940.

In May 1941, Fabrizio was on inactive reserve when the Navy called him back to service.

"They were looking for any experienced men," he said.

So he was assigned to the St. Louis.

Fabrizio kept a lot of paperwork that other clerks would pitch away, some detailing the ship's wartime excursions, from Alaska to the South Pacific - 239,000 miles logged and 20 battles in four years.

The St. Louis took a lot of hits. A torpedo blew off her bow. Kamikaze planes caused damage in another attack. The deck was strafed "almost every time we went out on an invasion," Fabrizio said.

In all, 39 crewmen were killed and 75 wounded.

But the Lucky Lou and its 1,200-man crew was credited with dishing out punishment of its own - sinking seven enemy ships and shooting down 20 enemy planes.

"I got to see everything," he said.

Off Okinawa, an enemy submarine launched three torpedoes at the group the St. Louis was in. Fabrizio signaled a warning with semiphore flags. The ships turned and the torpedoes missed. Then an American submarine chaser went on the attack.

"You've seen in the movies where a submarine comes straight up and then goes straight down? That submarine chaser sunk that sub just like that," he said.

Fabrizio returned home in October 1945, ending his naval career as a chief yeoman. He went back to work for Trailways, finally retiring as assistant superintendent of the bus line.

Rose Marie died in 1971, when their daughter, Kathy, was 15. So Fabrizio became a single dad. He never remarried.

"You do the best you can," he said. "She turned out to be one heck of a gal, I'll tell you."

To this day, every once in a while, when Fabrizio sniffs the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee, he said he is taken back to that day in 1941.

"In the Navy, there are no heroes," he said. "You're given a job to do. And, by God, you do it. I'm just proud of the ship I was on."

Comments

  • December 6, 2008

    7:09 a.m.

    Suggest removal

    John_Galt writes:

    Thank you for your service!