another japanese tourist hikes through the hills above pearl harbor. he takes an excellent camera from his picnic basket, and shoots pictures.
the american ships are lined up at anchor, calm, placid.
the harbor lies quiet. it's a sleepy sunday morning. children are playing, officers are stepping from their houses in their shorts to get the morning paper.
quick intercuts - between the approach of the japanese planes, and sleepy pearl harbor.
the battleship arizona leaps into the air, the ship's spine is broken, it's guts ripped open in one explosive instant. men on the deck are thrown into the burning oil already floating on the water from the other ruptured ships, but there are almost no survivors.
the harbor is already a mass of destruction and panic; screaming everywhere, men trying to fight fires, move the wounded; the second wave of planes hits, and tremendous explosions now rock the secondary ships like the destroyer shaw, blasting it apart.
below decks, sailors have organized a line and are passing ammunition from the ammo lockers, hand to hand up to the guns on deck. blasts from bombs hit them and ignite the ammo they're holding, setting off a chain reaction of explosions.
the sailors in the boat get strafed, the rounds cutting between them and blasting their boat in two. they jump into the oily water and swim toward shore.
the battleship nevada is underway, plowing through the harbor, as the water erupts with bombs.
the nevada swings off its course and runs aground.
rafe and danny hop from the ambulance in which they've hitched a ride to the harbor. they see the awful devastation.
we see rows of bodies outside the hospital where evelyn works.