One of the pilots flying patrol reported - and not calmly, either! - that what looked to him like the whole damn Jap fleet was steaming through San Bernardino Strait, headed straight for our unit. Aboard the Fanshaw Bay, Rear Admiral C. A. F. Sprague, in command of our unit, hardly could believe the report. "Get verification," he ordered. It was true, all right - coming at us were four battleships, the Yamato, Nagato, Kongo and Haruna; seven cruisers and at least nine destroyers. . . .

These matters, of course, did not concern us aboard the Johnston. We had only one job - to fight - and we did it. Commander Evans was out of his sea cabin in ten seconds. I could see the man from my station in the gun director above the bridge, and I can swear his heart was grinning as he went into battle. There was not a moment's hesitation or delay on his part; even as he came out, he gave the order:

"All hands to general quarters. Prepare to attack major portion of Japanese fleet. All engines ahead flank. Commence making smoke and stand by for a torpedo attack. Left full rudder."