CENTERVILLE, Mass. (AP) — On the day of the Pearl Harbor attack, the country’s oldest living survivor of the Japanese bombing was far below deck helping repair one of the boilers of the USS St. Louis.
Freeman Johnson, who turned 106 in March, never witnessed the surprise attack. He never heard his shipmates firing anti-aircraft guns at the attacking planes — shooting down a torpedo plane. By the time he was topside, the St. Louis, a light cruiser, had evaded midget submarines and safely set out to sea.
“While all the rigamarole was going on topside, I was inside a steam drum. Couldn’t see anything, absolutely nothing,” said Johnson, a Centerville, Massachusetts, resident whose living room is filled with mementos and photos of his Navy service, including photos of the St. Louis and him as a young sailor, along with a collection of Navy challenge coins and ribbons representing the places he visited. He still has his military identification tag — popularly known as dog tag.
Even as the St. Louis headed into the Pacific Ocean, Johnson, whose job was known as a fireman on the ship, knew little about the attack.
“We were way out to sea, way out. You couldn’t see any land at all. All you saw was ocean,” he said. “I was just a sailor, just a swabbie, I was not an officer. They don’t tell you anything if you don’t need to know. And I didn’t need know it. So they tell you nothing.”
When he visited schools, children often asked Johnson whether he was scared that day. “You’re not scared. You’re too busy to be scared,” he said, his gravelly voice rising. “Besides, you don’t know what you’re scared of. You can’t see anything. What are you afraid of?”
One of only 11 survivors
Johnson became the oldest survivor after World War II Navy veteran Ira “Ike” Schab died in December. He was 105. With Schab’s passing and the death of Clarence Lane in February at the age of 100, there remain only 11 survivors of the surprise attack, which killed just over 2,400 Americans and propelled the United States into the war. The U.S. mourns the nation’s fallen service members on Memorial Day, which takes place Monday.
Every year, there is a remembrance ceremony at the military base’s waterfront for Pearl Harbor survivors.
About 2,000 survivors attended the 50th anniversary event in 1991. A few dozen have showed in recent decades. In 2024, only two made it. That is out of an estimated 87,000 troops stationed on Oahu that day. None made the pilgrimage to Hawaii last year.
Growing recognition
For most of his life, Johnson avoided the spotlight and talked little about surviving the bombing. After all, he was one of the tens of thousands sailors who were there on that tragic day. He recalled his wife, Ruth, “thought that was something special,” so she called the Navy and “the girl laughed at her.”
But as the oldest survivor, he’s become a local celebrity and the reluctant face of one of the most important events in World War II. Johnson showed up at his 106th birthday party in a limousine and was mugged by television cameras. He gets letters from all over the world and is routinely called a hero wherever he goes out.
Johnson, who is hard of hearing, needs a walker to get around and suffers from congestive heart failure, can recall his wartime experience down to the smallest detail. A 19-year-old who was unemployed and living at home in Waltham, Johnson said he feared being drafted so he signed up for the Navy — because he felt it would be less physically taxing than the Army.
“As a kid, I walked. If I wanted to go somewhere, I walked or took my bicycle. But I didn’t want to walk from France to Germany,” he said, sitting in a recliner, dressed in an oversized flannel shirt and waving his hands like an orchestra conductor.
“It’s a long way carrying a knapsack with you. … Water for a day, food for a day, a 9-pound Springfield rifle all on your back and walking through the mud,” he said. “No thanks. That’s why I joined the Navy.”
Witnessing history
Johnson’s memories have less to do with battles while on the St. Louis, and later aboard the USS Iowa, than their significant roles in history. He helped commission the Iowa and recalled the battleship’s preparations in November 1943 ahead of transporting President Franklin D. Roosevelt to the Tehran Conference with British Prime Minister Winston Churchill and Soviet dictator Josef Stalin.
The ship was equipped with two elevators and a bathtub. All the ammunition and much of the oil was removed to lighten the ship as it made its way down the Potomac River to pick up Roosevelt. It was reloaded before the ship headed out to sea.
“It was a big meeting,” Johnson said, recalling how the crew were photographed with Roosevelt. “I don’t know what they talked about, but I didn’t need to know. We picked him back up, brought him home.”
Johnson also witnessed the war’s end aboard the Iowa. He was on the Iowa’s mast watching the surrender ceremonies about a mile away in Tokyo Bay aboard the USS Missouri on Sept. 2, 1945.
“I could see the boats coming up with the Marines escorting the Japanese onto ship and sitting around a table,” he said. “It was all over. That was the end of the war. A bunch of us got together — the war is over. Let’s go home.”
Telling the story of Pearl Harbor
These days, his daughter, Diane Johnson, is often by his side. They live together and always take a trip on Dec. 7, often attending Pearl Harbor remembrance events, including the 65th and 80th anniversary in Hawaii. She often poses questions to get her father talking and likes to nag him that he has “a responsibility” to share the story of Pearl Harbor —- especially for children who know little about the bombing.
“It’s kind of overwhelming when you think of it. Well, the 106 is what gets me,” she said. “When I think about his history, he’s at the beginning, he’s at middle, he is at the end when he witnessed the surrender. It’s something.”
Johnson began getting more attention when Diane Johnson heard a local television report suggesting the last survivor in the state had died. She called to correct the record and that raised his profile. Johnson also started making regular appearances in the Cape Cod St. Patrick’s Parade, often leading from the front.
“I wish more people were like him today. He just gets on and doesn’t complain about anything,” said Desmond Keogh, the chairman of the parade who has accompanied Johnson. “It’s what this country was all about. They were just a different generation. They did what was best for their country.”
For all the attention to Pearl Harbor, the gruff Johnson, who is known for his cackling laugh and mischievous smile, doesn’t see it as a defining moment in his life.
That would have been getting married after the war to his late wife and having three daughters. He also worked for years in a machinist shop, then in a convenience store and, finally, delivering meals to seniors — all jobs he retired from, the last one at the age of 90.
“Pearl Harbor just happened. I can’t put it any other way,” he said.