Pear Harbor Day

"Coe"
Ten rounds for time of:
95 pound Thruster, 10 reps
10 Ring push-ups

Post time to comments. Compare to CrossFit.com 100812 and CarportCrossFit.com 8/19/10.

Stacey Gordon sent us an email asking if we could do a hero WOD in honor of Pearl Harbor. When we asked her to write a little something about Pearl Harbor for the blog, we had no idea she would give us such a great story! Thank you, Stacey, for sharing your story and for teaching us all a little bit about Pear Harbor.


Pearl Harbor was the start of of America's involvement in a war, the outcome of which has shaped the political climate of the world as we know it today. It saddens me that it is hardly even discussed in schools...

Anyway...

here's a bit about my personal connection to the war.. it's probably too long, but I think it's an interesting story, and it could belong to any of us...

Studying WWII has always been a hobby of mine. My great uncle Seymour Gordon, for whom I am named, was a bombardier on a B-24. He was the only member of my family to ever serve in the military until I came along.

Although I never knew him, I feel connected to my uncle Seymour in some interesting and strange ways...
My uncle Seymour was not drafted in the Army Air Corp. He volunteered at age 26. He didn't have to. As the eldest son of a widow, he could have sought a deferment. But he chose to serve instead.

Thanks to the internet I’ve been able to find out so much more…

Uncle Seymour was a member of the 450th Bombardment Group, 721st Squadron based out of Manduria, Italy. They were known as the Cottontails because of the splash of white painted on the tail of the plane.

He was killed by flak on a bombing run that was headed for some marshaling rail yards near Linz, Austria on Feb. 25, 1945... less than 3 months before the Germans finally surrendered in May. His plane, was the only one lost that day. After his plane was struck by flak and damaged, most of the crew managed to bail out. Prior to jumping out, other members of the crew came down to the nose to check on Seymour.

According to their debriefing notes, the crew had commented to the effect that there was not much left of him or the navigator, to rescue or worry about. I was strangely comforted knowing that he probably died instantly and had at least never suffered the fate of having been thrown into a concentration camp. This was common practice for Jewish POW’s. 

His plane was found by the Germans near the town of Steyr, in Austria. The German soldiers questioned the captured crew members and showed them my uncle's dog tags as proof that at least parts of him remained. The surviving members of the crew were taken prisoner, but only briefly as all hell was breaking loose and the rapidly retreating Germans didn't have the energy or the resources to worry much about prisoners at that point.

In France, at the Epinal American Cemetery and Memorial, his name is carved on a plaque reserved for the dead, or missing in action, whose bodies were never recovered.

The strange connections I mentioned earlier...
When I joined the Air Force, I worked in intelligence and became a Russian Linguist. Shortly after completing language school, the "Needs of the Air Force" dictated that my security clearance would be put to better use as Photo (Imagery) Interpreter. What did photo interpreters do? Well, depending on the technology of the day, they looked at pictures taken by bombers and reconnaissance aircraft and satellites and picked out things on the ground for the bombers to bomb. Or to make our intelligence agencies aware of things that may be of some consequence to our national security. (think Cuban Missile crisis) After bombs hit the ground, photo interpreters look at the pictures taken by the gun cameras and other imaging platforms and conduct bomb damage assessment, among many other tasks. In many respects, it came to pass that I got a peek through the gun sights into Uncle Seymour's world. If it were 1944 or 1945 someone like me would have been with the pilots and crews during the pre and post-flight briefings with the pointer, the pictures and the maps. You've seen the movies...
One more thing...
A few days before I departed for basic training, I called my grandmother. Seymour had been her much beloved, brother-in-law and here I was, heading off to the military...She asked if I was going to do anything special for my last night at home. I told her that my boyfriend and I were going to do a night on the town in New York City. He was an opera singer and huge opera fan. I told her that he was taking me to a special dinner and an evening at the Met, to see Porgy and Bess. There was an extended silence at the other end of the phone. Finally my grandmother spoke...it sounded more like she was scolding me..."You better be very very careful missy"! I thought that was an odd thing for her to say in that manner. I asked her what she meant. She explained, "The last time we saw your Uncle Seymour alive was right before he left for flight training. He took us all out for dinner and to see his favorite opera at the Met..."
Porgy and Bess 

2 DAYS 'TIL THE CHRISTMAS PARTY!
CHRISTMAS PARTY EVITE - RSVP here!