Three years ago yesterday, “the day that will live in infamy,” the Japanese struck at Pearl Harbor. Thirty-five men who sleep on foreign soil, and victims on the seas, the home front, and in training camps, attest to this town’s sacrifice in the war that started on that fatal day.

Figures and statistics can never assay the heartbreak and sorrow the war years have brought to families of this town — on yellow telegraph blanks — “Regret to inform you — son missing in action.”

Only one solace and comfort is there to the parents of a boy whose life has been sacrificed — that of knowing that his life was not given in vain; that he left behind him, as did his comrades, glowing monuments on the road to final victory, the victories of Tarawa, Attu, Leyte, Guadalcanal, Normandy, Italy — and Aachen.

But statistics and figures in this case may be used to show Norwood contribution in blood and human lives.


No fewer than 35 men who kissed their mothers, wives or sweethearts goodbye and left for the war will never return to their loved ones and the pleasant life in this community they left behind. Their bodies lie in graves in Saipan, North Africa, France, New Guinea, Italy and in the fringe of other global battlefields.

Probably a dozen others are listed as missing in action. And for these lads there is hope — hope that they will live through the dangers they are bound to have encountered and that they may again return to their families.