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ix months after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Admiral Chester William Nimitz barely survived the crash of a seaplane in San Francisco Bay on June 30, 1942.

If an ancestor had mended his free-spending ways, the future architect of the American victory in the Pacific might well have served with distinction in a European navy. But great-grandfather Karl Heinrich Nimitz spent money like there was no tomorrow and ended up a destitute aristocrat. Opting to put an ocean between himself and his creditors, the high-born German emigrated to South Carolina.

His son Karl Jr. went to sea and later to Texas in 1846, where he joined the German tide flooding the recently admitted state. Thousands of his countrymen flocked to the Gulf Coast at the behest of the Adelsverein, a group of well-intentioned but tragically incompetent noblemen.

After a pestilence-ridden summer in a crowded camp, young Nimitz took his chances with a desperate inland exodus. Forced to choose between typhoid or Indians, he decided to risk a scalping.

As a founding resident of Fredericksburg, he tried his hand at clerking and for a time rode with the Texas Rangers. In 1847 he opened an inn that in stages was given the fascinating facade of a ship. For years the Nimitz Hotel was the only stopping place between Fredericksburg and California that offered travelers room and board.

A champion yarn spinner, the colorful innkeeper swore he had promised the sea a grandson as an admiral. A twist of fate made that tall tale come true.

Chronically bad health claimed Chester’s father before the birth of his sixth child in 1885. The lad remained a Nimitz, however, when, as was common in those days, his widowed mother married the brother of her late husband. Soon after the wedding, the family moved to nearby Kerrville.

An ambitious teenager, Chester set his sights on a career in the military. The local congressman knocked that dream for a loop by explaining West Point appointments were reserved for the sons of Army officers. As an afterthought, he asked if the lad would be interested in attending the Naval Academy. Chester had never heard of Annapolis but was anxious to give it a try.

His own diligence and the enthusiastic support of the community enabled the 16-year-old to pass the competitive entrance exam with high marks. Half a continent away on Sept. 7, 1901, he was sworn in as a midshipman.

The Spanish-American War three years earlier had exposed a serious shortage of officers and battle-worthy ships in the long neglected Navy. In keeping with the modernization of the seagoing service ordered by President Teddy Roosevelt, Chester Nimitz’s class was the largest in academy history.

Spartan self-discipline and old-fashioned hard work helped the youth to excel. For four grueling years, he rose each morning at 4:30 to get a head start on his studies. The reward for this extra effort came at graduation with an impressive seventh-place finish in a class of 114.

A rare mistake in 1908 jeopardized the future of the inexperienced ensign. Sloppy navigation caused a destroyer under Nimitz’s command to run aground in Manila Bay. Found guilty of negligence by a mandatory court-martial, he was subject to dismissal but received only a mild reprimand.

Nimitz later repaid that leniency with an exemplary display of loyalty. During a long tour of duty in Europe, he mastered diesel mechanics which promised a revolutionary breakthrough in ship propulsion. Offered an annual salary of $25,000 by a private firm for his invaluable expertise, he stayed in uniform for the princely sum of $300 a month.

Nimitz made the most of his second chance. Promoted to lieutenant the year after the accident, he advanced to lieutenant commander in 1917 and captain 11 years later. On the eve of World War II, he made rear admiral at the age of 53.

Nine days after the “day of infamy” at Pearl Harbor, President Roosevelt barked, “Tell Nimitz to get the hell out to Pearl and stay there until the war is won!” Quickly raised to the rank of admiral, he took charge of what was left of the battered Pacific Fleet.

With quiet precision and relentless determination, Nimitz healed America’s crippled naval wing and orchestrated the final triumph over Japan. On the deck of the battleship Missouri anchored in Tokyo Bay, he accepted the formal surrender of the armed forces of the Rising Sun in September 1945.

Buried on his birthday in 1966, Chester Nimitz never again lived in the Lone Star State. Nevertheless, he always remained at heart the boy from the Hill Country.

Summing up the sentiment of transplanted native sons and daughters everywhere, he once said, “You can take a Texan out of Texas, but you can’t take Texas out of a Texan.”

Signed first editions of “Texas Boomtowns: A History of Blood and Oil” are still available. Order yours today with a check for $28.80 to Bartee Haile, P.O. Box 152, Friendswood, TX 77549 or on-line at barteehaile.com