EDITOR'S NOTE: Army Pvt. Nicolaus Gaynos wrote this letter by candlelight from Hickam Field after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941. Today, the 93-year-old lives in Post Falls. He shared his letter with The Press for today's 70th anniversary of the attack.

It was Sunday, one of those Sundays that you are glad to be alive and all the world seems to lie quietly awaiting the arrival of a busy week ahead.

It was while I lay stretched out on my bunk thinking how I would spend the coming day that I was suddenly shaken almost out of bed by the loudest most terrifying roar that I have ever heard.

I leaped to the window out of the barracks and saw huge billowing clouds of smoke rising from the direction of Pearl Harbor. I thought an accident had occurred and the thought of war sounded foolish to me. Upon looking out of the other window, I was surprised to see one of our own huge hangars explode and start to burn.

It was then that the realization of war came to me. By this time, I had enough clothes on to venture outside and see what was going on.

As I looked up, I saw speeding planes winging their way over our hangars and dropping huge bombs. As they winged over, I could plainly see the red discs painted under their wings. They had their machine guns wide open and I could see the fire spatting from their muzzles. The ground about me was alive with spattering bullets.

Most of the men stood out in the open and, with wide-eyed amazement, watched the enemy streak right over our heads.

Some of the men dove into small holes and covered their heads with their hands in a futile attempt to shield themselves. I ran for the supply room to secure my gas mask and pistol. After receiving these, I made my way to post. With the enemy diving over our heads we raced madly up the street. Upon arrival at the transmitter trucks, I was relieved to see them intact. There was a lull in the action and, although we knew they would be back soon, we hurriedly made preparations for their return.

The whole field seemed to be ablaze and the smoke was choking me. I commandeered a truck and started to secure some supplies I had just begun when the devils returned.

I received orders to make off with one of the trucks. As I walked across the field, I spotted a plane making for me and I fell flat on my face. He passed over my head, but I knew he had spotted the trucks so I rushed on to make sure we would save at least one of them.

Three men and myself started to disconnect the power lines. We constantly looked up to see how close they were. As soon as we saw one heading for us, we would scatter to cover.

I laid in a small fox hole about 10 feet from the truck. I peeked out from under the brim of my helmet and watched the plane streaking for me. His guns were spitting fire and I could see the dust in front of me kick up in little puffs as the pellets of lead hit. As the puffs came close to me, I put my arms over my head and tensed every muscle in my body awaiting the sting of a piercing bullet.

As they roared over my head, I would roll over on my back and fire my revolver at them. It was useless and I knew it, but it seemed to give vent to my rage just to be able to shoot at them. The third plane came swooping on me and I saw him release his bomb. It struck about 6 yards on my right.

There were three soldiers with a machine gun on the spot where it hit. I saw them blow up into the air and one landed more than 100 feet away. We dragged those nearest us to safety under the trucks and continued on with our work. It was at this time that I saw a Jap plane head straight down over the line of hangars and he was followed by a half dozen more.

It seemed as though the whole line of hangars went up at once. The big barracks were now being bombed and I could see some men jumping from the third floor and try to run for cover. They were strafed by machine gun fire and you could see them fly into the air as they were struck.

Hell had now broken loose. Between the screams of men, the exploding bombs, the constant rattle of ground defense guns and the roaring planes over our heads I thought I would go mad.

By this time we had gotten the truck loose and I started to drive it away. The last few planes skimmed harmlessly overhead and we continued our labor in a more routine manner. My first task was to secure some gasoline for our generators. As I rode over the field I spotted a pile of drums blazing on my right. I was told that if I risked the chance to get them I could have them.

My buddy and I went toward the blazing heap and successfully rolled one to safety. We loaded it on the truck and took it to the trucks. All that afternoon we worked and, as it got dark, we settled down to a night of vigil. During the night we had a little anti-air activity and although I do not think there were any enemy ships up there, it sure made me feel good to know that there were some means now of retaliating if they did appear. I was awake all that night and in the morning I felt very tired but happy in knowing that I had weathered my baptism under fire without flinching.