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At the age of 106, he clearly remembers the day of the sudden bombing.
Freeman K. Johnson, a 106-year-old Pearl Harbor survivor, listens to a question during an interview at his home, May 6, 2026, in Centreville, Massachusetts. (AP Photo/Charles Krupa) AP
CENTERVILLE, Mass. (AP) — On the day of the Pearl Harbor attack, the nation’s oldest surviving Japanese bombing survivor was far below deck helping to repair one of the boilers of the USS St. Louis.
Freeman Johnson, who turned 106 in March, did not witness the surprise attack. He never heard his comrades fire anti-aircraft guns at the attacking planes, and even shot down a torpedo plane. By the time he was topside, the St. Louis, a light cruiser, had evaded the midget submarines and safely out to sea.
“While all this hoopla was going on topside, I was inside a steam drum. I couldn’t see anything, nothing at all,” said Johnson, a resident of Centerville, Massachusetts, whose living room is filled with memorabilia and photos of his Naval service, including photos of St. Louis as a young sailor, along with a collection of Navy challenge coins and ribbons representing places he’s visited. He still has his military identification card — known as a dog tag.
Even as the St. Louis was bound for the Pacific, Johnson, whose job was known as a firefighter aboard the ship, knew little about the attack.
“We were going out to sea, out to sea. You couldn’t see any land at all. All you saw was the ocean,” he said. “I was just a sailor, just a smear, and I wasn’t an officer. They don’t tell you anything if you don’t need to know it. And I didn’t need to know it. So they don’t tell you anything.”
When he visited schools, children would often ask Johnson if he was afraid that day. “You’re not afraid. You’re too busy to be afraid,” he said, his voice rising harshly. “Besides, you don’t know what you’re afraid of. You can’t see anything. What are you afraid of?”
Johnson became the oldest survivor after the death of World War II Navy veteran Ira “Ike” Schaap in December. He was 105 years old. With the death of a young man, only 11 survivors remained from the surprise attack, which killed just over 2,400 soldiers and plunged the United States into war. The United States mourns the country’s fallen service members on Memorial Day, which is Monday.
Every year, a memorial service is held on the military base’s waterfront for Pearl Harbor survivors.
About 2,000 survivors attended the 50th anniversary celebration in 1991. A few dozen have attended in recent decades. In 2024, only two have succeeded. This is among an estimated 87,000 soldiers stationed on Oahu that day. No one made the pilgrimage to Hawaii last year.
For most of his life, Johnson avoided the spotlight and spoke little about surviving the bombing. After all, he was one of the tens of thousands of sailors who were there on that tragic day. His wife, Ruth, “thought this was something special,” he recalled, so she called the Navy and “the girl laughed at her.”
But as the oldest survivor, he became a local celebrity and the reluctant face of one of the most important events of World War II. Johnson showed up to his 106th birthday party in a limousine and was robbed by television cameras. He receives letters from all over the world and is routinely called a hero wherever he goes out.
Johnson, who is hearing-impaired, requires a walker to get around and suffers from congestive heart failure, can recall his wartime experiences in great detail. Johnson, 19, who was unemployed and living at home in Waltham, said he feared he would be drafted, so he signed up for the Navy — because he felt it would be less physically demanding than the Army.
“When I was a child, I used to walk. If I wanted to go somewhere, I walked or rode my bike. But I didn’t want to walk from France to Germany,” he said, sitting in a wheelchair, wearing an oversized flannel shirt and waving his hands like an orchestra conductor.
“It’s a long trek, you carry a backpack with you…one day’s water, one day’s food, a 9-pound Springfield rifle, all on your back and walking through the mud,” he said. “No thanks. That’s why I joined the Navy.”
Johnson’s memories relate less to the battles while stationed in St. Louis, and later aboard the USS Iowa, than to their important roles in history. He helped operate the Iowa and recalled the battleship’s preparations in November 1943 before transporting President Franklin D. Roosevelt to the Tehran Conference with British Prime Minister Winston Churchill and Soviet dictator Joseph Stalin.
The ship is equipped with two elevators and a bathtub. All ammunition and much oil were removed to lighten the ship as it made its way down the Potomac River to pick up Roosevelt. It was reloaded before the ship headed out to sea.
“It was a big meeting,” Johnson said, recalling how the crew was photographed with Roosevelt. “I don’t know what they talked about, but I didn’t need to know. We took him back and brought him home.”
Johnson also witnessed the end of the war aboard the ship Iowa. He was on the Iowa mast watching the surrender ceremony a mile away in Tokyo Bay aboard the USS Missouri on September 2, 1945.
“I could see the boats coming in with the Marines escorting the Japanese to the ship and sitting around a table,” he said. “It’s all over. That was the end of the war. A group of us got together – the war is over. Let’s go home.”
These days, his daughter, Diane Johnson, is often by his side. They live together and always take a trip on December 7, and often attend Pearl Harbor commemoration events, including the 65th and 80th anniversary in Hawaii. She often asks questions to get her father talking, and likes to pester him that he has a “responsibility” to share the story of Pearl Harbor — especially to children who know little about the bombing.
“It’s kind of confusing when you think about it. Well, 106 is what gets me,” she said. “When I think about his history, it’s at the beginning, the middle, and the end when he witnessed the surrender. It’s something.”
Johnson began receiving more attention several years ago, when Diane Johnson heard a local television report indicating the death of the state’s last survivor. I called to correct the record which resulted in his profile being taken down. Johnson also began making regular appearances in the Cape Cod St. Patrick’s Parade, often leading from the front.
Desmond Keogh, the head of the parade who accompanied Johnson, said: “I wish more people were like him today. He goes ahead and never complains about anything.” “That’s what this country was. They were just a different generation. They did what was best for their country.”
Despite all the interest in Pearl Harbor, the gruff Johnson, known for his chatty laugh and mischievous smile, does not see it as a defining moment in his life.
After the war, he would have married his late wife and had three daughters. He also worked for years in a mechanic shop, then in a convenience store, and finally, delivering meals to the elderly — all jobs from which he retired, most recently at the age of 90.
“Pearl Harbor had just happened. I can’t put it any other way,” he said.