I have a particular fascination with Howland Island. Howland is a tiny speck of not much that’s situated more-or-less halfway between Hawaii and Fiji. In your standard American high school history textbook, its only mention is the fact that it was Amelia Earhart’s destination on her around-the-world flight when she disappeared. Otherwise, it’s pretty much been lost to history.
Which is too bad because its story is fascinating. The U.S. gov’t claimed possession in the mid nineteenth century for the purpose of guano mining, which it carried out for several decades. The island was abandoned late in the century until 1935, when an airfield was built in preparation for Earhart’s voyage. Howland has absolutely no natural resources other that some rocks, sparse grasses, and bird shit. Everything had to be brought in by ship. The orientation of the island meant that the airfield had to be built in such a way that planes landing would be hit by strong crosswinds, so ultimately it was never used. A few shacks were built, but most of the dwellings were tents.
The colonists stayed on Howland for whatever reason, periodically resupplied by a coast guard cutter. Life was pretty boring until Dec. 7th, 1941. Unaware of the morning’s events in Hawaii (the colonists were supposed to do a daily check-in with Honolulu over the radio, but on that particular morning decided that a lazy cup of coffee was more important), the 4 colonists were cleaning fish at the water’s edge when 14 Japanese bombers appeared on the horizon. The bombers dropped their payloads on the tiny “town”, destroying the solid structures. Two of the four colonists were killed. The survivors fled to the other side of the island—which was less than a mile away—where they dug a couple of coffin-sized trenches and hunkered down. The next morning a Japanese sub visited the island and shelled the remains of the town for good measure, ensuring all radio equipment was destroyed.
The two survivors buried the two men who had been killed in the initial attack and, after another visit from Japanese bombers, made the decision to stay in their tiny shelters during the day, only coming out at night. They were forced to collect rainwater for drinking, but enough canned and preserved food had survived the bombing that they didn’t go hungry. They lived like that, crouched in little trenches and only venturing out on dark moonless nights, until a U.S. Navy destroyer rescued them on January 31, 1942. They had been in those trenches 53 days.
That was the last time anyone lived on Howland.
The two men killed in the bombing—Joe Keliihananui and Dick Whaley, who was only 19—were re-interred some years later at the Hawaiian State Veteran’s Cemetery on Oahu.
Today Howland is a wildlife sanctuary and access is strictly limited. The coast guard checks up on it every once in a while, and there are annual visits from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service for Reasons. A navigation beacon, a lighthouse-shaped structure made of stone to act as a visible beacon for ships and aircraft, is the only remaining structure on the island.
Why the Dec. 1941 - Jan 1942 events haven’t been made into a movie yet, I don’t know.
Edit: Here’s a page that has more info, including a pic of the “town” and a pic of the two men killed in the bombing.
http://kapalama.ksbe.edu/archives/historical/huipanalaau/end.php