WWII

The Long Way to Work

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Hey Kids,

Working on Saturday isn’t right. It just isn’t. At least not when it’s for someone else.

Looking over the needs for next week, I came to the conclusion, I needed to come in to work today so to avoid total disaster on Monday. It’s a grown up thing I think. I hate being a grown-up.

However, I learned last week that a working B-17 bomber from WWII would be in a town not too far from here.

Usually it’s a 10 mile ride to work. A quick zip around the hill, buzz by the Capitol building and straight up the hill to the University. Easy and quick.

Not today!

My commute on this day would lead me onto a beautiful morning drive up into the mountains, past Park City, one of the venues for the winter games, cruising past

WWII B-17 Bomber

WWII B-17 Bomber “Sentimental Journey”

lakes and rivers, and on to Heber City and its small private plane airport. About 60 miles total.

I’ve seen a B-17 before, but I’ve never seen a working one. I watched it fire up its four engines, coughing out smoke and flames. I took in its sound and aviation fuel fumes as it taxied away from us and roared back down the airstrip, somehow lifting that big body off of the ground, I hung around to watch it circle the airport and land, setting down so gently it amazed me. I only wish I had the Mucho Denaro’s to buy a ticket to go for a ride.

I looked over the other aircraft they had and some old WWII vehicles on display- many if not all working, and boogied my way back down the hill after about 2 hours and got to work.

It’ll be a short day today, maybe 4 hours or so. Just enough to keep the alligators off my butt next week.

I wish every work day was like this one.

 

Day 110

Uncle Harold

mikemjensen Shame on Me, Vanity Tags: , , , , 2 Comments

Hey Kids,

Recently I’ve been drawn to military stories, documentaries, movies and the like. I’ve always been interested but for whatever reason the interest became heightened.

I find myself reflecting on the scenes described or shown and I try to imagine what any of it was like. What would I be, how would I act, how would I survive, and if I did, how would I cope?

Many of the scenarios I imagine, even as far from reality as someone whose never seen a battle can guess; I do not fare so well. I know I want to, but I have no context in which I can pretend I would be anything great. I hope I’m wrong. And I hope I never know.

I think of those who did not make it. The young ones who ended their lives so suddenly and so short. The good and the bad. What a loss. What a loss for their families. What a loss for humanity. Another person who might have a valid opinion when a country thinks of war. Another person who understands the price.

Yesterday I remembered that I have an uncle who did not return from WWII. Obviously I never met him and he died when my mother was 3, she did not know him either. I have no idea who he was, what he thought, or what he could have become. But I know he died. And I know that other than a faint memory of visiting his gravesite (headstone actually, his body is in the Philippines), I’ve never paid any respects to him.

11329966_772156879564101_2161782549950359240_nI corrected this today, I found his headstone, near to my grandparents. It was heavily over grown and soiled with sod, dirt and mildew. My baby and I cleared out from around the flush mounted stone; as much as we could with our hands and paid our respect. I’m ashamed that I haven’t done this before today and I will be returning to do some long-term maintenance later on.

I am proud, of what of what my country was asked to do. The US has some faults and political decisions sometimes cloud our values and desires as a people but as a whole, I’m proud.

The sacrifice of my Uncle Harold will never be realized by me. But I know that a cost was paid by our family. As was many families. And by many families from many nations. Those who gave must know that the world is a better place because of it.

I hope that the US will never be required to sacrifice 450,000 people again. I hope my family never loses another member to a war. But I’m proud to say when they were, we gave.

Thank you Uncle Harold. I hope that one day I can learn and reclaim what we lost. I’m very proud of you.

 

Day 91

 

Japanese Eye Witness Account

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GP's avatarPacific Paratrooper

Captain Mitsuo Fuschida Captain Mitsuo Fuschida

Capt. Mitsuo Fuschida, Imperial Japanese Navy, pilot

Fuchida was the first pilot to fly over Pearl Harbor when the attack of 7 December occurred – here he describes his view of the Battle of Midway from the deck of the IJN Akagi;

“The first enemy [U.S.] carrier planes to attack were 15 torpedo bombers.  When first spotted by our screening ships and combat air patrol, they were still not visible from the carriers, but they soon appeared as tiny dark specks in the blue sky, a little above the horizon, on Akagi’s starboard bow.  The distant wings flashed in the sun.  Occasionally one of the specks burst into a spark of flame and trailed black smoke as it fell into the water.  Our fighters were on the job and the enemy again seemed to be without fighter protection.

IJN Akagi IJN Akagi

“Presently a report came in from a Zero…

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