The Sailor: The Journey of George Mendonsa
To understand the sailor’s impulsive act, one must understand the man inside the uniform. George Mendonsa was born in 1923 in Newport, Rhode Island, the son of Portuguese immigrants. Growing up in a fishing community, the sea was in his blood. Like many young men of his generation, his life was irrevocably altered by the attack on Pearl Harbor in December 1941. He enlisted in the U.S. Navy in 1942, leaving his life as a fisherman behind for the uncertainty of war.
Mendonsa served as a quartermaster on the USS The Sullivans (DD-537), a Fletcher-class destroyer named in honor of the five Sullivan brothers who perished together on the USS Juneau. This assignment placed him directly in the heart of the Pacific Theater, the most ferocious naval battleground of the war. He saw combat in some of the most intense campaigns, including the invasions of the Philippines and Okinawa. He steered the ship through kamikaze attacks, witnessed the deaths of countless shipmates, and experienced the visceral horror of war firsthand. On one harrowing occasion, his ship was sent to rescue sailors from the burning aircraft carrier USS Bunker Hill after it was struck by two kamikaze planes. Mendonsa and his crew pulled injured and dying men from the water, a memory that would stay with him forever.
These experiences forged in him a deep appreciation for the medical personnel who cared for the wounded. He watched with profound respect as Navy nurses tended to horrific injuries, their calm competence a beacon of humanity amid the chaos. This admiration would play a pivotal role in the events of August 14, 1945.
On that fateful day, Mendonsa was on leave in New York City. He was on a first date with a young woman named Rita Petry, who would later become his wife. They were at a matinee at Radio City Music Hall when the show was abruptly stopped. The lights came up, and an announcer’s voice boomed through the theater: the war was over. Japan had surrendered. The audience erupted. Strangers hugged, cried, and cheered. The entire city poured into the streets in a massive, spontaneous celebration. George and Rita joined the jubilant crowds, heading for the bars to toast the victory. After a few drinks, filled with a potent cocktail of relief, joy, and alcohol, they found themselves swept into the human sea of Times Square.
