The following letter was written by Lee Pond, a sailor aboard the USS Franklin, in the aftermath of the devastating attack on March 19, 1945. Addressed to a woman named Vera, the letter offers a rare and deeply personal eyewitness account of the chaos, destruction, and bravery witnessed that day.

The letter was preserved in a family collection and generously shared with us by Brad Cleghorn, whose aunt Vera was the recipient. Although Lee and Vera never married, this heartfelt message stands as a powerful tribute to the human connections forged during wartime—and to the resilience of those who served aboard the Franklin.

Page I
7 Sept. 1945

Dear Vera,

Now that censorship is over, I can tell you quite a few things you might want to know, so just ask away. I’m stationed not far from Honolulu, a short ride on either a train or bus and I’m there. It is a naval air station here and we work on the radio gear of quite a few different types of planes, but mostly; Hellcats (F6F’s), Wildcats (FM’s), avengers (TBF’s), Helldiver (SB2C’s), Corsair (F4U’s) and various other models, but as you can see, they’re mostly carrier aircraft. Also I thought you might be interested in knowing what happened to me on the Franklin last time the morning we were hit, I got up about 6:00, went down to the hangar deck (I slept on the gallery deck, between the flight and hangar deck) to wait out the long chow line for breakfast. We had scrambled eggs, corn flakes, fried potatoes, coffee, spam, butter, toast, jam, and one other thing I can’t remember what it was. (They always feed good when going into action; it may be your last meal, so they make it as good as possible, it was the last for many) After going back for a second helping of eggs, I dumped my tray and walked towards my sleeping quarters, which were in the after end of the ship. The quarters were just below the hangar deck (the second deck, the hangar deck is the first) I opened

---

Page II

My locker, removed my towel, soap, toothbrush, and a few other articles, then went into the washroom to clean up. I had just finished washing up and was back again to my locker replacing the articles I had removed. I had put everything in but my towel and soap. I was holding the toothbrush in my hand — then came the first of the fireworks — two distinctly spaced explosions — by previous experience, the few fellows with me (and myself) had an idea what had happened and rushed down a hatch to a lower deck (the 3rd) and ran into the messhall with the intention of going thru it and all the way to bow of the ship. (the safest spot to be at a time like that) The messhall was truly a mess, all the tables had been blown down, by the blast of the two 500 lb. bombers that had hit us, scrambled eggs, greasy potatoes, and coffee were all over the deck; approximately 350 men were milling around trying to get to the forward part of the ship as we were. By this time smoke started pouring into the messhall immediately. I doused my towel with a cup of coffee (which later saved my life) and decided to go back to my living quarters on the 2nd deck where there were not so many people. When I got there I could hear the fire crackling on the hangar

---

Page III

Deck just above my head (there was two and one half inches of armor plate between me and the planes above which I knew to be loaded with gas, small caliber ammo, 20 mm., bombs and rockets — it wasn’t a pleasant feeling to know that was above you and burning) We looked for a possible means of escape, but found none, by then the small ammo had going off on the hangar deck above us, it sounded like popcorn. So, resigned to our fate, we sat down on the deck and waited for the worst. The smoke was very dense, like a heavy fog, it was impossible to breathe for long without a filter of some kind, that’s where my coffee dampened towel came in. Others were not so lucky, some urinated on their handkerchiefs and clothing in order to make a suitable air filter. The big fireworks were going off by now all over the topside of the ship, and continued to go off for the next two hours. During this time, the paint was blown off the overhead (ceiling), light bulbs burst in their sockets, all glass shattered, we were having the devil shaken out us by the blast, and it was getting hotter than hell where we were (the hangar deck was burning above us) and we knew no one was fighting the fire; it was impossible while the bombs were exploding. I felt sure I would be dead

---

Page IV

before long, I can’t remember what I thought about during those minutes, but I know I was thinking about you once. Finally the explosions stopped and we opened a hatch that lead to the hangar deck and looked around. The place was a mess, we saw bodies of men smouldering, one poor fellow was hanging over a rail on the gallery deck burnt to a brown crisp — flames were licking around the hatch, so we decided to get the hell out of there and go forward. Finally reached the bow of the ship, word was passed around that the Air Department personnel were to leave the ship and go aboard the Santa Fe, a cruiser. (I’m skipping a lot here, but I’ll tell you later) So, I grabbed a line (rope) and went aboard the cruiser. It took us to the Ulithi Isles, where we were taken aboard a troop transport and headed for Pearl Harbor. I was shipped off at Guam for a day and then on to T.H., so here I am.

I’ll cut that short, because I gotta go.
I love you, Darling, write soon.

Love,
Lee