Peter Tomich, Chief Watertender, USN
This is not an eyewitness report. However, no report of the day's events would be complete without paying tribute to the one individual who exhibited outstanding valor and courage, and whose actions saved the lives of his Shipmates. For this action Peter Tomich, Chief Watertender, US Navy, would posthumously receive the Medal of Honor. For this story we borrowed the words of Mr. Doug Sterner in his Commemoration of Pearl Harbor Day, 1999 on his 'Hall of Heroes" web site.
"On the northeast side of Ford Island more ships sat at anchor, among them an aging veteran of many years of Naval service, the USS Utah. The Utah still served with pride, in an inglorious but important role. For nine weeks before that fateful morning, the Utah had been subject to almost daily bombing attacks....by AMERICAN pilots. The USS Utah, in its old age, had been converted to a training vessel or "target ship".
American pilots would make their practice runs, dropping "dummy bombs" on the Utah to perfect their combat skills. The crew of Utah were a brave bunch, keeping the ship in operating condition, conducting their drills, and rushing below deck for safety before each practice run. To keep the practice bombs from crashing through, the deck was covered with a layer of 6"x12" timbers.
Perhaps as inglorious as the role of "target ship" was for the USS Utah, so too was the role of the Watertenders, sailors responsible for the ship's huge boilers. An inglorious task, it none-the-less was one of the most demanding. It required a thorough understanding of the piping in the engine room, the gages that told when too much or too little pressure was present, and the nuances of the machinery that kept the ship in operation.
Peter Tomich was the Chief Watertender for the USS Utah. He was one of the most experienced...and best...in the entire Pacific fleet. At the age of 48, he had 22 years of Naval experience. The Navy was his life...his "wife"...his "family".
Peter Tomich was born in Prolog, a small village in the Austro-Hungarian Empire (Bosnia-Herzegovina) on June 3, 1893. Twenty years later, along with his cousin John Tonic, Peter emigrated to the United States. When World War I broke out, he enlisted in the U.S. Army. Though he never saw combat in World War I, he served with pride for 18 months from June 6, 1917 to January 13, 1919. Along the way, he applied for and received United States Citizenship. Ten days after his U.S. Army enlistment expired, Peter Tomich enlisted in the Navy. His "next of kin" information listed his cousin John Tonic in New York. But for Peter Tomich, his "real" next of kin became the sailors with whom he lived and worked for the next 22 years. His only "real" home.....
Below deck, in the engineering plant, water rushed towards the huge boilers. Peter Tomich, ever mindful of his crew, ran in to warn them of the impending doom and relay the order to evacuate. "Get out," he yelled above the horrible noise around him. He could feel the ship slowly turning on its side, knew that in moments any hope of escape would vanish. He had to get his men...the only family he knew, out of danger. "Get topside, go....the ship is turning over...you have to escape now." he continued to shout at them. Then, with the knowledge that unless the boilers were secured they would rupture and explode, he ignored the evacuation order himself and set himself to the job that had to be done. As the crewman began up the ladders and headed for daylight above, they turned one last time to watch their Chief. He calmly moved from valve to valve, setting the gauges, releasing steam here and there, stabilizing and securing the huge boilers that otherwise would have turned the entire ship into a massive inferno from which no one would escape.
By 8:05 A.M. the Utah was practically on it's side, listing at 40 degrees. Those emerging from below deck were met with gunfire from above as the Japanese continued to strafe the deck with their machine-guns. The huge timbers that had covered the deck began to shift with each explosion, trapping men and crushing bodies. It was hopeless to remain, and rapidly the men on deck moved to the starboard side to leap into the water and swim for safety. Below, Peter Tomich continued to do what he did best, tend to the boilers. He had to be aware, due the incline of the Utah, that his time for escape had run out. But before the ship rolled completely over, he would get the job done to prevent an explosion that would end all hope of survival for hundreds of men now trying to swim to safety.
At 8:12 A.M. the mooring lines that held the Utah in place snapped with the sound of whips crackling through the air. With a last gasp, the aging ship rolled completely over, its masts digging into the muddy floor of the bay. The last bubbles of air began to make their way to the surface as time ran out for those still below deck. In all, 58 men would never make it out of the hull of the Utah as it rolled. It became their grave for all time, buried beneath the rusting hull."
