The Shield of Memory – Articles from “Der Schild”, Journal of the Reich Federation of Jewish Front-Line Soldiers: January 11, 1926 – “The Jewish Landwehr Officers at Waterloo”

This 1926 article from Der Schild is very much off the pixelated-track of this blog’s content, for it pertains to the Battle of Waterloo, and specifically, the role of Jewish officers in the Prussian Landwehr during that pivotal battle. 

As such, the article is reflective of the newspaper’s value in covering the experience of Jews in the military well removed from the context of the First World War.  Ironically, the thrust of the article is to disprove an assertion that appeared in the German-Jewish periodical Sulamith, to the effect that “55 Prussian officer of the Jewish faith were killed at Waterloo.”  Based on information presented by the article’s anonymous author, this was not so: As of 1915, “Neither a complete list of Prussian soldiers who died in the Battle of Waterloo nor any other source has been found.  This is evidently a misunderstanding or a printing error in the magazine “Sulamith”, possibly caused by the fact that Lord Wellington spoke in the English House of Lords on August 1, 1933 of 15 officers of the Jewish faith who served in the Battle of Waterloo.” 

It turns out that Der Schild takes this supposed statement by Lord Wellington out of context, for, as reported in the Jewish Chronicle in 2015, the comment about 15 Jewish officers under Wellington’s command was actually spoken by a peer in Parliament, who supported the Jewish Civil Disabilities Bill of 1833, and passage of which Lord \Wellington was adamantly against.  

In any event, the article’s unknown author then segues into a brief discussion of the military service of German Jews subsequent to 1804; in early decades of the nineteenth century.  The conclusion of this 1926 article ends with an ironic note, remarking on Silberstein’s earlier comment in Sulamith, expressing, “…the hope that after the World War there will not be a similar relapse into hatred and lack of culture.  This hope was deceptive.”

Well, if it was deceptive in 1926, perhaps it is still deceptive in 2025. 

Will it always be so, for a nation that stands alone? 

Perhaps.  Perhaps not.  Perhaps both.  

The Jewish Landwehr Officers at Waterloo

The Shield
January 11, 1926
Number 2

In No. 35 of the “Schild”, Horwitz reports on a note in an old volume of the magazine “Sulamith”, according to which 55 Prussian Landwehr officers of the Jewish faith were killed at Waterloo. The improbability of this number is immediately apparent. It is hardly conceivable that just a few years after the edict of March 11, 1812 opened the way for Prussian Jews to join the army, there should already have been so many Jewish officers that no fewer than 55 of their ranks could have been killed in battle. This figure also clearly does not agree with the general casualty figures. In total, 7,000 men of the Prussian troops were put out of action at Waterloo (Richter: History of the Wars of Liberation, Berlin 1890, Volume 4, page 304; Jager: World History, Bielefeld-Leipzig 1899, Volume 4, page 350). I was unable to determine how many officers are included in this number from the sources available to me. If one assumes that the ratio was the same as with the British and Hanoverians, where 600 officers were among 14-15,000 out of action (Richter: ibid.), it would turn out that the Prussian army lost around 300 officers at Waterloo. This number would therefore include those killed and wounded. If one also assumes that around 33 percent – a very high percentage! – were killed, one would arrive at the conclusion that around 100 officers remained on the battlefield. It is simply not conceivable that there were around 55 Jewish Landwehr officers among 100 officers of the active ranks and the Landwehr. Of course, there are many possible sources of error in this calculation. It is obvious that the number 55 cannot be correct.

But there is no need for this probability calculation. One of the leading authorities in the field of Jewish history, Professor Dr. Brann, conducted an investigation into the accuracy of the numerical information published in the magazine “Sulamith” and elsewhere in the “Monthly Journal for the History and Science of Judaism”, year 1915, volume 59, page 131, and he came to the conclusion that the number is incorrect. Neither a complete list of Prussian soldiers who died in the Battle of Waterloo nor any other source has been found. This is evidently a misunderstanding or a printing error in the magazine “Sulamith”, possibly caused by the fact that Lord Wellington spoke in the English House of Lords on August 1, 1933 of 15 officers of the Jewish faith who served in the Battle of Waterloo. (Brann, op. cit., page 240.) It seems necessary to clarify this. The article in the “The Shield” could lead to corresponding claims being made in the defensive. But nothing would be more dangerous than that. Every false statement is damaging. We do not need to use dubious or at least insufficiently provable means; there are enough clear facts at our disposal that can be supported with evidence at any time, which demonstrate the military performance of the Jews in the older and more recent past. This is especially true of the wars of liberation. The volume of the “Monthly Magazine” cited above alone offers a wealth of factual information.

The State Chancellor Prince von Hardenberg wrote on January 4, 1915: “The history of our last war against France has already shown that the Jews have become worthy of the state that has taken them into its fold through their loyal devotion. The young men of the Jewish faith have been comrades in arms of their Christian fellow citizens and have shown [?] examples of true heroism and the most praiseworthy contempt for the dangers of war, just as the other Jewish inhabitants, especially the women, joined the Christians in every kind of sacrifice. (Silberstein, op. cit., page 99.)

“The most shameful thing
was that after the end of the wars of liberation,
only those Jewish fighters who had not been promoted
were called up for militia exercises,
while those who had been appointed officers in the field
were not called up,
and were forced to leave the army
in order to wean Christians off the sight of a Jewish commander.”

According to the Rabinett files in the Schwerin main archive, it has been established, particularly on the basis of letters from pastors, that the Mecklenburg peasants only volunteered for the army in small numbers, whereas the Jews made up the largest contingent of volunteers (op. cit., page 100). Admittedly, our comrades did not receive the gratitude of their fatherland and their homeland even then. It is significant that the small Mecklenburg town of Gnoien, when a Jew was among the first four volunteers, approached the Duke, asking that promotion to officer should be made without distinction of birth and religion and only on the basis of suitability; but that the same magistrate who expressed this in 1813 went so far as to refuse to admit a freedom fighter as a citizen in 1817 because he was Jewish. The same man who was one of the first to enlist in the army in 1813 could not be admitted to the merchant company of the town of Wolgast in 1830 unless he was baptized. (ibid., pages 96, 106.) The most shameful thing was that after the end of the wars of liberation, only those Jewish fighters who had not been promoted were called up for militia exercises, while those who had been appointed officers in the field were not called up, and were forced to leave the army in order to wean Christians off the sight of a Jewish commander.

“”So after 1813 – the setback after 1870 is well known,”
and then expresses the hope that after the World War
there will not be a similar relapse into hatred and lack of culture.
This hope was deceptive.”

Silberstein’s essay, written in 1915, follows this description with the words: “So after 1813 – the setback after 1870 is well known,” and then expresses the hope that after the World War there will not be a similar relapse into hatred and lack of culture. This hope was deceptive.

But we are aware that we have done our duty, just like our fellow believers in the wars of liberation. For even if 55 Jewish Landwehr officers did not fall at Waterloo, one thing is certain: that, as was generally the case in the Wars of Liberation, many Jewish warriors and Jewish officers fought in surprisingly large numbers in that battle (ibid., p. 240).

Die jüdischen Landwehroffiziere bei Waterloo.

Der Schild
Januar 11, 1926
Nummer 2

In Nr. 35 des “Schild” berichtet Horwitz von einer Notiz in einem alten Band der Zeitschrift „Sulamith“, nach der bei Waterloo 55 preussische Landwehroffiziere jüdischen Glaubens gefallen seien. Die Unwahrscheinlichkeit dieser Zahl drängt sich sofort auf. Es ist kaum denkbar, dass es wenige Jahre, nachdem das Edikt vom 11. März 1812 den preussischen Juden den Weg ins Heer geöffnet hatte, bereits so viele jüdische Offiziere gegeben haben sollte, dass aus ihren Reihen in einer Schlacht nicht weniger als 55 gefallen sein könnten. Auch mit den allgemeinen Verluftziffern stimmt die Angabe offensichtlich nicht überein. Insgesamt wurden bei Waterloo von den preussischen Truppen 7000 Mann ausser Gefecht gesetzt (Richter: Geschichte der Befreiungskriege, Berlin 1890, Band 4, Seite 304; Jager: Weltgeschichte, Bielefeld-Leipzig 1899, Band 4, Seite 350). Wieviel Offiziere in dieser Zahl enthalten sind, konnte ich aus den mir zur Verfügung stehenden Quellen nicht feststellen. Wenn man annimmt, dass der Verhältnis das gleiche gewesen sei, wie bei den Briten und Hannoveranern, bei denen sich unter 14-15 000 ausser Gefecht gesetzten 600 Offiziere befanden (Richtr: a.a.O.), so wurde sich ergeben, dass das preussische Heer bei Waterloo etwa 300 Offiziere verloren hätte. Diese Zahl würde also Gefallene und Verwundete in such begreifen. Nimmt man weiter an, etwa 33 Prozent – ein sehr hoher Hundertsatz! – wäre gefallen, so würde man dazu gelangen, dass etwa 100 Offiziere auf dem Schlachtfeld gebleiben seien. Dass unter 100 Offizieren des aktiven Standes und der Landwehr etwa 55 jüdische Landwehroffiziere gewesen seien, ist schlechterdings nicht denkbar. Gewiss sind bei dieser Berechnung mancherlei Fehlerquellen denkbar. Dass aber die Zahl 55 nicht stimmen kann, ergibt sich wohl ohne weiteres.

Es bedarf aber gar nicht dieser Wahrscheinlichkeitsberechnung. Einer der ersten Autoritäten auf dem Gebiete der jüdischen Geschichte, Professor Dr. Brann, hat in der „Monatsschrift für Geschichte und Wissenschaft des Judentums“, Jahrg. 1915, Bd. 59, Seite 131, eine Untersuchung über die Richtigkeit jener zahlenmässigen Angabe, die in der Zeitschrift „Sulamith“ und anderwärts veröffentlicht war, angestellt und er ist zu dem Ergebnis gelangt, dass die Zahl nicht stimmt. Es hat sich weder überhaupt eine preussische Gesamtliste der in der Schlacht bei Waterloo gefallenen Krieger noch eine sonstige Quelle feststellen lassen. Offenbar handelt es sich um ein Missverständnis oder einen Druckfehler in der Zeitschrift „Sulamith“, möglicherweise mit veranlasst dadurch, dass Lord Wellington am 1. August 1933 im englischen Oberhaus von 15 Offizieren jüdischen Glaubens, die in der Schlacht bei Waterloo gedient haben, gesprochen hat. (Brann a.a.O. Seite 240.) Dies klarzustellen, schient erforderlich Der Aufsatz im „Schild“ könnte dazu führen, dass entsprechende Behauptungen im Abwehrkampf aufgestellt werden. Nichts aber wäre gefährlicher als das. Jede falsche Angabe schadet. Wir haben es ja auch nicht notwendig, zweifelhafter oder doch nicht genügend beweisbarer Behelfe uns zu bedienen; es stehen genügend klar zu Tage liegende und jederzeit mit Beweis zu vertretende Tatsachen uns zur Verfügung, die die soldatische Bewährung der Juden in älterer und jüngerer Vergangenheit dartun. Dies gilt insbesondere auch von den Freiheitskriegen. Allein der angeführte Band der „Monatsschrift“ bietet eine Fülle von tatsächlichen Angaben.

So hat der Staatskanzler Fürst von Hardenberg am 4. Januar 1915 geschrieben: „Auch die Geschichte unseres letzten Krieges wider Frankreich bereits erwiesen, dass die Juden des Staates, der sie in seinen Schoss aufgenommen, durch treue Anhänglichkeit würdig geworden. Die jungen Männer jüdischen Glaubens sind die Waffengefährten ihrer christlichen Mitbürger gewesen und wir haben unser ihnen Beispiele des wahren Heldenmutes und der rühmlichsten Verachtung der Kriegsgefahren auszuweisen, so wie die übrigen jüdischen Einwohner, namentlich auch die Frauen, in Aufopferung jeder Art den Christen sich anschlossen. (Silberstein a.a.O., Seite 99.)

Nach den Rabinettsakten im Schweriner Hauptarchiv ist, insbesondere auf Grund von Briefen von Pfarrern, festgestellt, dass die Mecklenburger Bauern sich nur in geringen Umfange zum Heere meldeten, dagegen die Juden das grösste Kontingent der Freiwilligen stellten (a.a.O., Seite 100). Freilich: Der Dank des Vaterlandes und ihrer Heimatstätte ist auch damals unseren Kameraden nicht geworden. Es ist bezeichnend, dass die kleine mecklenburgische Stadt Gnoien, als sich unter den 4 ersten Freiwilligen ein Jude befand, bei dem Herzog vorstellig wurde, es möge die Beförderung zum Offizier ohne Unterschied der Geburt und Religion nur mit Rücksicht auf die Eignung erfolgen; dass aber dann der gleiche Magistrat, der dies 1813 zum Ausdruck gebracht, bereits im Jahre 1817 soweit ging, einem Freiheitskampfer die Aufnahme als Bürger zu verweigern, weil er Jude war. Auch konnte der gleiche Mann, der im Jahre 1813 sich mit als erster zu den Fahnen gemeldet hatte, noch im Jahre 1830 keine Aufnahme in die Kaufmannskompagnie der Stadt Wolgast erlangen, wenn er sich nicht der Taufe unterwarf. (a.a.O., Seite 96, 106.) Das schmählichste war wohl, das man nach Abschuss der Freiheitskriege nur diejenigen jüdischen Kämpfer zu Landwehrübungen einberief, die nicht befördert worden waren, dagegen von einer Einberufung der im Felde zu Offizieren ernannten, absah, ja sie zwang, aus dem Heere auszuscheiden, um die Christen von dem Anblick eines jüdischen Befehlshabers zu entwöhnen.

Der im Jahre 1915 geschriebene Aufsatz von Silberstein setzt nach dieser Schilderung die Worte: „So nach 1813 – der Rückschlag nach 1870 ist bekannt“, um dann der Hoffnung Ausdruck zu geben, dass nach dem Weltkriege ein gleiches Zurückfallen in Hass und Unkultur nicht erfolgen wird. Diese Hoffnung hat getrogen.

Das Bewusstsein aber haben wir, unsere Pflicht getan zu haben, wie unsere Glaubensgenossen in den Freiheitskriegen. Denn wenn auch nicht 55 jüdische Landwehroffiziere bei Waterloo gefallen sind, das steht fest: Dass, wie allgemein in den Freiheitskriegen viele jüdische Krieger, jüdische Offiziere in überraschend grosser Anzahl in jener Schlacht mitgekämpft haben (a.a.O., S. 240).

Here’s an overview of how to access Der Schild at Goethe University, excerpted from my post “Infantry Against Tanks: A German Jewish Soldier at Cambrai, November, 1917“, of September 9, 2017.  (It certainly seems to have come in handy, just over seven years later!)

“Stories and depictions of World War One combat, composed both during and after the “Great War”, are abundantly available in print and on the web. 

“A fascinating source of such accounts – but even moreso a source particularly; poignantly ironic – is the newspaper Der Schild, which was published by the association of German-Jewish war veterans, the “Reichsbundes Jüdischer Frontsoldaten”, from January of 1922 through late 1938, the latter date paralleling the disbandment of the RjF.  Der Schild is available as 35mm microfilm at the Dorot Jewish Division of the New York Public Library, and in digital format through Goethe University Frankfurt am Main.  

“The screen-shot below shows the Goethe University’s catalog entry for Der Schild, which allows for immediate and direct access of the library’s holdings of the newspaper.  All years of the publication, with the exception of 1924, are available; all as PDFs. 

“Of equal (greater?!) importance, accessing digital holdings is as simple as it is intuitive (and easy, too!)  In effect and intent, this is a very well designed website!  This is shown through this screen-shot, presenting holdings of Der Schild for 1933. 

“The total digitized holdings of Der Schild in the Goethe University’s collection comprise approximately 530 issues.  “Gaps” do exist, with 1922 comprising only four issues (9, 10, 13, and 14) and 1923 comprising three issues (14, 15, and 17).  However, holdings for all years commencing with 1925 are – I believe – complete, through the final issue (number 44, published November 4, 1938).

“Not unexpectedly, Der Schild’s content sheds fascinating and retrospectively haunting light on Jewish life in Germany during the 1920s and 1930s; on Jewish genealogy; on the military service of German Jews (not only in the First World War but the Franco-Prussian War as well), often focusing on Jewish religious services at “the Front”, rather than “combat”, per se (see the issue of April 3, 1936, with its cover article “Pesach vor Verdun”); on occasion about Jewish military service in the Allied nations during “The Great War”(1); on Jewish history, literature, and religion; on Jewish life and Jewish news outside of Germany.

“There is much to be explored.”

References

Bund jüdischer Soldaten (YouTube Channel)

Der Schild (digital version) (at Goethe University Frankfurt website)

Reichsbund jüdischer Frontsoldaten (at Wikipedia)

Vaterländischer Bund jüdischer Frontsoldaten (Patriotic Union of Jewish Front-Line Soldiers”) 

Soldiers from New York: Jewish Soldiers in The New York Times, in World War Two: March 8, 1944: The Last Parachute – 2 Lt. Jacob Moskowitz and 2 Lt. Theodore J. MacDonald

“Mac, why did you give me your parachute?”
Despite his illness and weakness he replied in a firm voice,
“I was your commander – that’s what I had to do.”

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Flying Fortress “Sleepy Time Gal” (“yellow M”) goes down over Germany, March 8, 1944…

(From a painting accompanying Jeremy P. Amick’s due of California Democrat article’s “Veteran recounts story of becoming prisoner of war in World War II” – about the WW II experiences of T/Sgt. Wilbur C. Rowden – in April, 2021.)

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In 1988 and 1992, Squadron / Signal Publications, Inc., published two volumes authored by Hans-Heiri Stapfer and illustrated by Don Greer about the fate of American warplanes operated by the 8th, 9th, 12th, and 15th Air Forces (and to a minor extent the Royal Air Force and French Air Force) lost during combat missions over Axis-controlled North Africa and Europe during the Second World War.  At first thought, given the centrality of WW II as a subject of historical inquiry, this isn’t necessarily an unusual topic, per se.  However, Stapfer’s two books do remain truly unusual in covering a subject that previously hadn’t been addressed too deeply, if at all.  That is – on one hand – he addressed the fate of American warplanes that – captured in flying condition, were impressed into Luftwaffe service, or relatively intact but no longer airworthy, were the subject of technical analysis and salvage.  On the other hand, he focused on American military aircraft that landed in Switzerland. 

The respective titles of the books – Strangers In A Strange Land (see below), and, Strangers In A Strange Land Vol. II – Escape to Neutrality – are quite apropos.  Here’s the cover of book I:

When I first learned of these publications, I thought the titles were very clever, and inspired by science fiction author Robert Heinlein’s similarly titled 1961 novel – which has a very controversial and complex social and literary legacy – Stranger In a Strange Land.  Given that the two books were aimed at overlapping audiences of aviation history enthusiasts, military historians, and devotees of scale aircraft modelling – and that these interests (particularly the plastic modelling part, at least a few decades ago!) – are for some enthusiasts on a cultural continuum which has included wargaming, and, the realms of science fiction and fantasy, the title seemed like a well-inspired choice which revealed an intuitive understanding of the books’ likely audience.  Certainly this was so for myself, given my own longstanding interest in science fiction, even if, ironically Robert Heinlein – though utterly central to the literary and cultural history of science fiction, and a superb prose stylist (I’m not at all talking about the philosophy which was the basis for his later (ugh!) fiction – has never been one of my favorite authors in the genre.  (Like Philip K. Dick, Cordwainer Smith, Catherine L. Moore, Cyril M. Kornbluth, Alfred Elton “A.E.” van Vogt, Jack Williamson, Ward Moore, Poul Anderson, and – “sometimes yes, sometimes no” – Jack Vance and Robert Sheckley.  Among others.  Robert Heinlein, Isaac Asimov, and Arthur C. Clarke?  Not so much.  But, that’s getting too “off-topic” for this blog.)

However, it was only upon writing this post that I discovered that Heinlein wasn’t the originator of the phrase.  It originates from the Tanach, and can be found in verse 22 of Chapter 2 of the book of Shemot (otherwise known as Exodus), where it’s spoken by Moses to his wife, Zipporah.  Specifically:

(21) Moses consented to stay with the man, and he gave his daughter Zipporah to Moses. כאוַיּ֥וֹאֶל משֶׁ֖ה לָשֶׁ֣בֶת אֶת־הָאִ֑ישׁ וַיִּתֵּ֛ן אֶת־צִפֹּרָ֥ה בִתּ֖וֹ לְמשֶֽׁה:
(22) She bore a son, and he named him Gershom, for he said, “I was a stranger in a foreign land.” כבוַתֵּ֣לֶד בֵּ֔ן וַיִּקְרָ֥א אֶת־שְׁמ֖וֹ גֵּֽרְשֹׁ֑ם כִּ֣י אָמַ֔ר גֵּ֣ר הָיִ֔יתִי בְּאֶ֖רֶץ נָכְרִיָּֽה:

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One of the B-17s described in volume I of Strangers In A Strange Land – in a chapter entitled “The Boys From Rochester” – is B-17G 42-38211, of the 731st Bomb Squadron, 452nd Bomb Group, 8th Air Force, piloted by 2 Lt. Theodore J. MacDonald. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The insignia of the 8th Air Force.  (You knew that already!!)

This example of the insignia of the 452nd Bomb Group is from the American Air Museum in Britain.  “Labor ad Futurum” is Latin for “Work for the Future”.  (image FRE 5186) …

…while this is the insignia of the 731st Bomb Squadron, from Eastman Leather Clothing.com.

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Perhaps better known by its nickname “Sleepy Time Gal” and vastly less well known by its squadron identification letter “M“, the plane’s loss is covered in Missing Air Crew Report 3183 and Luftgaukommando Report KU 1160.  The aircraft was attacked and severely damaged by Me-109s, with every crew member except the pilot bailing out – of course, by definition with the intention of parachuting – but only seven of these men ultimately survived. 

The very few Casualty Questionnaires in the MACR reveal a lack of information about how Lieutenants Godsey and Harris were killed, only revealing that the pair of officers bailed out prior to the other seven crewmen.  Searching the National Archives holdings reveals a complete absence of Case Files or any other documents (in Records Group 153) relating to postwar investigations as to the cause of their deaths.  Oddly, Nienburg was in the British Occupation Zone during the (first?!?) Cold War, which by nature would not have impeded such efforts, completely unlike attempts to determine the fates of missing American and British airmen in the Soviet Occupation Zone.

Otherwise, the co-pilot’s and bombardier’s dog-tags are present in Luftgaukommando Report KU 1160.  But, there’s no need to display images of their tags here.  I do note that Strangers states, “The co-pilot John T. Godsey and bombardier Anton L. Harris were reportedly killed by rifle fire from the ground while still in their parachutes.“]

With Lt. Moskowitz’s parachute having been shredded in the attacks by the Me-109s, Lt. Macdonald gave the navigator his own undamaged parachute.  Then, he single-pilotedly belly-landed the damaged Fortress at Nienburg on the Weser (river), albeit the Luftgaukommando Report is ambiguous about the precise location where the bomber came to a halt. 

MACR 3193’s anonymous description of the bomber’s loss is nominal, but accurate:  “Aircraft 42-38211, at 1300 hours, was hit by enemy fighters.  Peeled off with two other aircraft, under control, seemingly attempting to throw off ME 109s. Was observed to have dropped bombs and lower gear. No. 2 engine burning. No chutes. – Nienburg.”

The bomber’s crew is listed below.  Co-pilot John Godsey and bombardier Anton Harris, who were uninjured when they left the bomber, were reportedly shot while descending in their parachutes, though I don’t know if this incident was investigated postwar by the Judge Advocate General’s Office.  Given the inevitable passage of time, the eight survivors have by now passed on, the last having been (above-mentioned) waist gunner Wilbur C. Rowden, who died in 2024, not long before his 101st birthday.  

Pilot: MacDonald, Theodore J., 2 Lt., 0-745133 (1924-3/14/89)
Co-Pilot: Godsey, John Thomas, 2 Lt., 0-754421 (Born 11/28/18, Richmond, Va.) – Shot while descending in parachute?
Navigator: Moskowitz, Jacob, 2 Lt., 0-691786 (9/26/22-5/5/01)
Bombardier: Harris, Anton Ludwig, 2 Lt., 0-746885 (Born 8/22/16, Salmon, Id.) – Shot while descending in parachute?
Flight Engineer: Cline, Mearl Irvin, T/Sgt., 37284833 (12/7/21-4/10/08)
Radio Operator: Batdorf, Charles Robert, T/Sgt., 13152314 (2/11/24-7/19/07)
Gunner (Ball Turret): Valigura, William J., S/Sgt., 18231698 (9/29/17-4/16/47)
Gunner (Right Waist): Rowden, Wilbur Clarence, T/Sgt., 37409569 (4/24/23-2/13/24)
Gunner (Left Waist): Dowell, Wendell E., S/Sgt., 16162010 (6/13/24-12/29/06)
Gunner (Tail): Allen, Robert L., S/Sgt., 31253844

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As appropriately hinted by the chapter title in Strangers In A Strange Land, the bomber’s pilot, Lt. MacDonald, was from the upstate New York City of Rochester.  News of his Missing in Action status (obtained via the Central Library of Rochester & Monroe County), appeared in the Rochester Democrat & Chronicle on March 31: 

Pilot of Fortress Missing in Action

Second Lt. Theodore J. McDonald, 20, son of Vincent L. McDonald, 59 Vassar St., was reported missing in action during a Mar. 8 raid over Germany, according to a telegram received by his father.

The Flying Fortress pilot write his last letter Mar. 6 and mentioned that he had been in a raid Mar. 4.  He asked his friends not to worry and commented that his ship “Sleepy Time Gal” would see the men through, as she always had.  He was reported mssing after his fourth mission.

Lieutenant McDonald, who enlisted February, 1942 received his wings and commission May 20, 1942 and went overseas in January, 1943.

A graduate of Monroe High School, he worked for several summers as gold caddy at Oak Hill Country Club.  At the time of his enlistment he was employed by the Camera Works.  His brother, Cpl. Robert J., 23, is stationed in Africa.

XXX

These two images of the quite intact Sleepy Time Gal after her crash-landing near Nienburg, are via Jing Zhou’s B17FlyingFortress.de website.  The photographs also appear in Strangers In A Strange Land (pages 62 and 63) where they’re credited to Willy Radinger.  According to the captions in the book, the pictures show Luftwaffe personnel from Hannover-Wuntsdorf examining the wreck prior to its salvage; damage incurred during the crash-landing rendered it unflyable.  

This Oogle map shows the location of Nienburg (unlabeled at this scale; it’s just below the very center of the map) relative to Hannover and Bremen.  It’s in Lower Saxony and reached by Highway 6.  

This larger-scale map shows the town itself.  Its small size is apparent by the scale bar at upper left.  

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Unlike many of the American WW II servicemen chronicled at this blog, Sleepy Time Gal’s navigator, 2 Lt. Jacob “Jack” Moskowitz (0-691786) was indeed recorded in American Jews in World War II, appearing on page 397, where it’s noted that he was awarded the Purple Heart.  (Thus, the absence of an Air Medal and associated Oak Leaf Clusters suggested he completed less than five combat missions.)  The husband of Irene E. Moskowitz, who resided at 148 Parkside Avenue, in Brooklyn, I’ve been unable to identify the names of his parents, but their address seems to have been 145 West 130th Street n Manhattan – specifically, in Harlem; a “brownstone” apartment still standing today.  Jack was interned at Stalag Luft 1 (North Compound 1) at Barth, Germany, and was presumably among the few hundred Jewish POWs at that camp who the Germans segregated from their fellow inmates in mid-January of 1945 (during the same week as the segregation of Jewish POWs at Stalag 9B (Bad Orb), as a precursor to an eventuality that – thankfully – never came to pass…  (But, that is another story.)  He died on May 5, 2001, and is buried at Calverton National Cemetery, in Calverton, N.Y.

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That was in 1944 through 1945.  Fifty-five years later, in late 2000, two entries appeared in the Stalag Luft I Guestbook (now only accessible via the Wayback Machine), one by (long since civilian) Jack Moskowitz himself, and another in reply by Jake Simonitsch, who knew the latter from the same Barracks in the Stalag’s North Compound.  Here are the entries:

Name: JACK MOSKOWITZ
Homepage: 863 SKYLINE DR.
Hometown: CORAM NY-11727
Sent: 11:32 AM – 9/25 2000
INTERESTED TO HEAR FROM ANYONE FROM NO.COMPOUND 1 ALSO FROM THE JEWISH BARRACKS. WAS IN TED MACDONALDS CREW- 452 B.G.–731 SQUADRON. I’M A MEMBER OF 452 B.G. ASSOC.

Name: Jake M. Simonitsch
Hometown: Independence, MO 64055-2091
Sent: 11:37 PM – 10/29 2000
George Lesko put me up to this search. This is a great Luft I web site. My POW # was “Stalag Luft I #3555” Moskowitz was in my room, Barracks 2, North Compound.

A half-year later, on August 15, 2001 (going by the Wayback Machine), Jack Moskowitz’s story of his capture and captivity appeared on the Stalag Luft I website.  Fortunately still accessible today, here it is, below:

Honor Bound
by Jack Moskowitz

2nd Lt. Jacob Jack  Moskowitz
Bretton Woods, NY
452nd Bomb Group – Navigator

Stalag Luft I –  North I, barracks 1 and later segregated from the general population and assigned to the Jewish barracks.

After the war Jack spent 32 years in the bakery business and after retiring from that worked for the I.R.S. for ten years.  He has been married to his beautiful wife Irene for 56 years and they have two great sons and two wonderful daughters in law and four lovely grandchildren.  Jack recently passed away.  He and his wife, Irene, had done a great deal of traveling (foreign) and spent their winters in Florida.

In September 1943, as a newly commissioned 2nd Lt. Navigator, I was assigned to the 452nd Bomb Group at Moses Lake Washington.  This was a new group being formed for service in the 8th Air Force, and I was attached to a crew headed by Lt. Theodore MacDonald.

“I’ll call you Murph,” MacDonald said when we met.

“OK”, I replied,  “I’ll call you Mac.”   We had quite a lot in common and quickly established a rapport.  He was from Rochester, New York, and I was from Brooklyn.  Both of us had lost our mothers at an early age and had left college to enlist in the Air Corps.

During our three-month training period, our friendship grew.  With the New Year in 1944, our group was sent to England and we began flying bombing missions against Germany.  Losses were heavy at that time.  Our commanding Officer was shot down on the group’s first mission.

On our crew’s eighth mission, a daylight raid on Berlin, we were in the lead squadron and were attacked over Hanover by German “Focke Wulfe” fighter planes.  Our bomber was struck repeatedly from nose to tail.  Two engines were knocked out of commission.  I was in the nose of the plane and was hit several times in my right leg.  My parachute was shredded by the cannon fire.  MacDonald was ringing the “Bail Out” bell, ordering us to evacuate the plane.

I yelled to him over the intercom, “Mac, I have no chute!”

“Come up here and take mine!” he said without hesitation.  “Get out now!”

He was my superior and I did as I was instructed.  I took the chute, went to the hatch, and after the bombardier and copilot had evacuated the plane, I too jumped.

Fortunately for me, after scraping through trees, I landed in the midst of a Luftwaffe anti-aircraft battery.  I was immediately taken prisoner and placed in a small cell at an air base.  Miserable hours went by, as I sat alone in the dark, pondering the fate of MacDonald who I’d left in the disabled airplane.  I knew the man had saved my life, and possibly sacrificed his own in the process.  I just hoped and prayed he had made it, and I resolved to do everything I could do to discover what had happened to him.

After what seemed like forever, I heard footsteps approaching my cell.  The door opened and two German guards appeared.  Standing between them was none other than Lieutenant Ted MacDonald, looking a little the worse for wear, but otherwise unharmed.

We grinned at each other and I breathed a long sigh of relief.  When the guards left, Mac told me he had managed to crash-land the plane but hadn’t got far before being captured.

Soon we were sent to Stalag Luft I prison camp for air corps personnel.  My wounded leg festered and swelled and I became feverish.  MacDonald, noticing this called Colonel Hancke, the camp doctor, who was a British officer.  He had me transferred to the POW hospital for treatment.  I was there for a month.

Liberated by our allies at the war’s end, Ted and I both returned to civilian life.  Over the years we maintained our friendship.  Our sons went to college near Rochester, and two of his daughters came to New York City.  We celebrated weddings and Bar Mitzvahs jointly.

In early 1992, disturbed at not having received our customary Christmas card, I called Rochester and spoke to Ted’s wife, Patricia.  She told me that Ted was suffering from terminal cancer and didn’t have too long to live.  In March my wife Irene and I flew to Rochester to see them.  Ted was fading rapidly.

There was a question that I felt I had to ask him.  It had haunted me for all these years, though strangely, I had never mentioned it before, not even in the POW camp.  At his bedside, in a moment when I was alone with him, I finally asked, “Mac, why did you give me your parachute?”

Despite his illness and weakness he replied in a firm voice, “I was your commander – that’s what I had to do.”

I just nodded and gripped his hand.  I think I’d already known what his answer would be.  The reply was so typical of him.  Faithful to his country.  Faithful to his comrades.

Two days later, Patricia called to tell us Ted had passed away.  “He had held on for so long.  It was as if he was just waiting to see you first,” Patricia told me.

That didn’t surprise me either.  The bond of friendship tempered by the fire of combat is one of the strongest ties men can have.  Mac and I had that connection.  And always will.

The essay is followed by a picture of the North Compound I kitchen crew: “Jack is the one kneeling in the lower left hand corner of the photo.  His friend Ted MacDonald is the 7th from the left.  Sid Wohlman the adjutant to the senior allied officer is second from the right.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Going back in time to the city of Rochester in 1945, a brief account of Lt. MacDonald’s actions on the March 8 mission appeared in the September 27 issue of the Rochester Democrat & Chronicle.

City Airman’s Heroism Told In Award Bid

How a Rochester pilot saved the life of his navigator was revealed yesterday when the pilot, Lt. Theodore J. McDonald, 22 Pioneer St., was recommended for the Distinguished Flying according to the Associated Press.

The recommendation was made by the navigator, Lt. Jacob Moskowitz of Brooklyn.  He said that in action over Europe, his parachute was destroyed and he was wounded when enemy fighters crippled the Yank bomber.  He said the pilot, unaware of the navigator’s condition, ordered the crew to bail out.

When he discovered the situation, he ordered Moskowitz to take his own chute and jump while McDonald remained with the plane and managed to crash land it safely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Concluding the account of Sleepy Time Gal in Strangers In A Strange Land is a passage about Lt. MacDonald’s encounter with a former resident of Rochester, a certain Walter Hanemann, who figures centrally in Strangers, and, “who left Rochester in the late 1930s,” to return to Germany, who in time became a Luftwaffe interrogator at Oberursel.  This aspect of Lt. MacDonald’s time as a POW, and far more about his wartime experiences, appeared in the Democrat & Chronicle a decade-and-a-half after the war’s end in a lengthy and detailed 1959 article by Bill Beeney which is accompanied by a few photographs from MacDonald’s memorabilia.  This article, which parallels and corroborates the chronicle of Sleepy Time Gal and her crew as presented in Strangers, is presented verbatim below, which my added comments in brown font, like this.  

Nazi from Rochester!
Ted MacDonald Could Hardly Believe His Eyes When He First Recognized His German Captor

April 12, 1959

A Strange, True War Story Now Told for First Time

WAR IS A FERTILE breeding ground for strange and unusual stories.  Some don’t find their way into print until several years later.  Like this one.  It is one of the most amazing stories to come out of World War II.

It begins properly on the morning of March 8, 1944.  Theodore J. MacDonald is at the controls of a B-17 as it takes off from its base in England on one of the first Allied daylight bombing raids on Berlin.

Today Ted MacDonald is a smiling, handsome, 35-year-old father of five, manager of advertising sales for the Hammer Lithograph Corp. at 425 Exchange St.

He and his wife, the former Pat Culhane, live at 19 Arlington Dr., Pittsford, and life follows a reasonably predictable routine.  As predictable as can be expected in a family with five youngsters – John, 12; Marguerite, 9; Theodore, 7; Patricia, 19 months, and Martin, born exactly eight days ago – April 4, 1959.

On that March Wednesday in 1944, however, he was 1st Lieutenant MacDonald, first pilot of “Sleepy Time Gal,” one of the Flying Fortresses in the 731st Squadron of the 452nd Bomb Group, 8th Air Force.

“WE GOT IT over Dummer Lake, just outside Hanover,” MacDonald says.  Every detail of the experience is still sharp and clear in his mind.  It wasn’t the sort of thing one forgets.

“The Germans put up a heavy concentration of flak there.  This was our third crack at daylight bombing of Berlin in five days.  The Messerschmitts – 109s and 110s – got us right at noon.  My plane was at the highest level of the stack formation.  We were vulnerable.  It was my fourth mission.  [Strangers In A Strange Land says this was the entire crew’s fifth mission.  Regardless, fourth or fifth mission, this explains Moskowitz’s sole award having been the Purple Heart.  None of the crew made it to five missions, and, the Air Medal.]

“The Nazi fighters tried a new tactic, something we’d never seen before.  They flew at us in formation.  On the first pass they hit one of my engines and blew a chunk off the tail.  You couldn’t figure which plane was shooting at you.  All you could see were the ‘lights’ blinking at you, and you picked out a plane you figured was shooting and trained your guns on him.  We must have selected the wrong plane.  Somebody got us.

“That first pass knocked us out of our formation and we couldn’t catch up.  It also started a couple of fires.  It was rugged going.  Then the Messerschmitts made their second pass.  This time they hit another engine, started a fire in the bomb bay and one in the nose.  I ordered everyone to ball out.”

10 in Crew, Only 9 Chutes, So Pilot Rides Her Down

EASIER SAID than done, as it turned out, because the fire in the nose had destroyed the parachutes of the bombardier and navigator.  A B-17 carried only one spare ‘chute, so the 10-man crew was still one ‘chute short.

MacDonald ordered the bombardier to take the spare parachute, and he gave his own to the navigator.  “Then I rode her down alone.”

He says this calmly, in retrospect, as though it were an everyday occurrence and one that suggested no alternative.  “What else could I do” he asks in some puzzlement.  For this act of heroism, MacDonald was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.

“A pair of 109s rode me down, staying on each wing like an escort.  I kept the plane in a vertical dive almost all the way, to keep the flames snuffed out.  Strangely enough, it was the calmest moment I’ve ever lived.  I figured: “I’m going to go, but it’s not a bad way at that.”

* * *

TED MACDONALD was a happy-go-lucky 20-year-old.

The son of Vincent MacDonald, he lived at 59 Vassar St. and had graduated from Monroe High School, worked for several summers as a caddy at Oak Hill Country Club.  When he enlisted in February, 1942, he was working at Camera Works, hoping to save enough money so that he could attend Clarkson Institute of Technology.

“I spotted a sort of broad, marshy area – remember, like where we used to hunt pussy willows when we were kids, up at the end of South Clinton Avenue? – and tried to set down there.  I had to pull up at the last second to clear some high tension wires.  When I hit, I was going between 190 and 200 miles per hour, and I decided to get out of that airplane as fast as I could.  I had just started to climb out when she exploded.  It sent me flying – maybe 75 or 100 feet away, and I lay there unconscious for about four hours.”  [In light of the Sleepy Time Gal having been verified by photographs as having remained intact and undamaged by fire or explosion, I can only conjecture that Lt. MacDonald’s brave and almost self-sacrificing act – while thankfully entirely successful – must have also been a traumatic and emotional experience for him.  One that he eventually; honestly, grew to believe occurred far differently than it actually transpired.]  

German Soldier Finds Him, Takes Him to a Tavern

LT. MAC DONALD was found by a German soldier who was on leave and was walking his dog.  The German marched him to a small town nearby.  The townspeople, subject to recent bombings, were not happy to see an American flyer.  They indicated their displeasure to such an extent that it looked as though MacDonald would be summarily dispatched.  The German soldier who found him swung the tide the other way.

“He took me into a tavern and locked the door.  Then he and the tavern owner bought me a cold beer.

“At sundown a little guy in a green uniform, with one of those spiked helmets on his head, came along on a motor hike.  He ordered me to climb in, and took me across the German countryside to a jail near a canal somewhere.  I was still in a state of shock after that plane crash. [See comments above.]

“I stayed in the jail overnight; the next day a woman cooked me some pig hocks and sauerkraut and mashed potatoes.  It was the last good food I was to eat for a long, long time.

“The next night a truck took me to a camp outside Hanover.  They made me hand over everything I had in my pockets, of course.  I had a pair of rosary beads that had belonged to my mother.  The Nazi picked them up, sneered, spat at them and threw them onto the ground.  I went for him.  It was a fight that didn’t last long.  I lost.”

THE NEXT day MacDonald was taken to the Hanover railroad station and, with a group of prisoners-of-war, herded aboard a train, bound for Dulag Luft No. 1, an interrogation center, at Oberursel.

“We were pretty tense on that train.  We sweated out a bombing raid.  We were suspicious and tired and trying to remember that there might be spies planted among us.  Name, rank, serial number – that was all we wanted to remember.  We were very edgy.”

At Essen the train stopped and some German officers boarded.

“A guy in a Nazi uniform, with staff sergeant stripes, came walking down the aisle.  I could see him from a distance he looked vaguely familiar.  All of a sudden I heard him shout: ‘Anyone here from Rochester, New York?’

“You can imagine what a shock it was.  I looked again and was sure I recognized him.  He came up to me and said: ‘You’re from Rochester, aren’t you?’

“I said; ‘No,’ and turned away as though I didn’t know him.

* * *

‘Don’t You Remember Me?’  Asks the German Sergeant

“HE SAID: ‘Sure you are.  You’re one of the MacDonald kids.  You used to live on Vassar St.  Don’t you remember me? – I’m The Flying Dutchman.’

“I said: ‘You’re daffy.  I don’t know you …  But I sure did.  I remembered him He used to hang around the corner at Park Avenue and Berkeley Street with the boys, and around lead’s garage at Winston Place,

He got to be an airplane pilot, and was a skywriter for a while.

“He said to me: ‘I know you, MacDonald.  I used to live over Tommy Hatpin’s barber shop in Park Avenue.  Does Rabin still run the delicatessen? Does Frank Snelgrove still have the Atlantic station at the corner of Park and Berkeley?  How’s George Huss – do you ever see him?’“

Understandably, MacDonald was “shook up” by this flurry of reminiscing – on a prisoner-of-war train deep in Nazi Germany.

He listened as Walter Hanemann continued to bombard him with neighborhood talk.  And he learned that Hanemann, who had left Rochester and the United States in the late 1930s to return to his native Germany via South America, had joined the Luftwaffe.  He had flown Stuka dive bombers on the Polish front, and was now on a rest leave but was being used as an interrogator because of his intimate knowledge of the States.

“Get smart, MacDonald,” he said at one point.  “We’re going to win this war easily.  Come on and join Hitler’s air force like I did.”  To such talk MacDonald was as chilly as an iceberg.  Before the train ride was over, Hanemann said: “I’ll be back In Rochester before you will, kid.”

* * *

AT THE INTERROGATION center In Oberusel, MacDonald was placed in a compartment 6 feet long by 3 feet wide and given “the heat treatment.”  The temperature was between 95 and 105 degrees, the lights were left on 24 hours a day.  He was confined thusly for 10 days.

He was Interrogated by Hanemann and others.  He stuck to the “Name, rank and serial number” rules.  Then he was given “the cold treatment.”  He was placed in a dank, damp unlighted compartment for seven days, subject to questioning at all hours.

Finally they herded him into a box ear and removed him to Stalag No. 1 on the Baltic Sea.  He was there 14 months before the war ended and he returned to the United States and Rochester.

* * *

An Unexpected Meeting In the Candy Shop

NOW THE SCENE shifts:

It is Armistice Day, Nov. 11, 1948.  Civilian Theodore J. MacDonald had spent the last three years going to the University of Pennsylvania’s Wharton School of Business.

“I was going to attend an Armistice Day dinner at St Margaret Mary’s that night.  Rep. Ken Keating was the speaker of the evening.  George McAvoy’s wife, Ruth, was in the hospital, and my wife was going to visit her so I stopped in Bob Byrel’s candy shop at 623 Park Ave. to buy a box of candy.

“All of a sudden the door opened and in walks this guy: Walter Hanemann!”

“He said; ‘Hello there, MacDonald, how’s everything?  I didn’t get back to Rochester before you did, but I’m not far behind you.’

“I was stunned.  Here was the same guy who had been wearing a Nazi air force uniform, questioning me in a prisoner-of-war camp, talking about coming back to Rochester as though we’d both been away on in overnight Boy Scout camping trip.  I’ll tell you, I was real shook up.  I made a grab for him because we had some things to settle, but he took off.

“I found out that he was here on business for his father-in-law or his father.  Selling machines or something like that.  When I went to the dinner, I told Keating about the incident.  How in the devil could the guy get back in this country so soon after the war like that?

“That’s all there is to the story.”

* * *

FRANK SNELGROVE, now a radio operator for the Rochester Police Bureau, remembered Hanemann “only vaguely.”

But George Huss, who is with the city’s Department of Public Works, was quick to recall not only The Flying Dutchman” but the incident in the candy store.  Hanemann was visiting him at the time.

“He used to work for me from 1929 to 1932 when I ran a garage at 1691 Bait Ave., said Huss.  “He was just sort of a helper, but he wanted to learn the business.  He married a Rochester girl, and they had a daughter.

“I don’t know exactly how be got back here so fast after the war, but he was selling machines or tools – knives, forks and barber shears, I think.  His father was rich.  He owned a machine company in Frankfurt, and his mother had money, too.  They had a summer home in Switzerland, I recall.

“After he dropped In to visit me that time in 1948, he went to Patterson, N.J., the last I heard and then returned to Germany.”

Read Bill Beeney’s THE HOMETOWNER column every Monday and Friday morning.

[Here’s the original article, which occupies most of an entire page.  Note that it includes two pictures from MacDonald’s “collection”, and an illustration imagining the meeting between MacDonald and Walter Hanemann.]

[A closer view of the article.]

FORTRESS CREWMEN – Lt. Theodore J. MacDonald of Rochester, pilot, is at left in this war-time picture taken in England before bomber was shot down over Berlin and MacDonald met up with old “friend”.

[Considering that the image displayed “here” was originally a black & white print, then a halftone newspaper photo, and now lots of pixels, it’s held up well over the decades.]  

MacDonald as Prisoner of War

[The German abbreviation below MacDonald’s picture, and German-issued POW number 3526 beneath, immediately reveal this image to have been attached to his “Personalkarte”.  “Kgf.Lg.d.Lw.I” is an abbreviation for “Kriegsgefangenen Lager der Luftwaffe I“.]

REMEMBERS – Ted MacDonald looks over war pictures as he recalls strange story of Nazi from Rochester.

“Don’t you remember me?” asked the German.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[But wait, there’s more…  Almost two weeks later, on April 27, a Democrat & Chronicle by Bill Beeney presented Walter Hanemann’s story, as reported by the man’s anonymous daughter, and, Ted MacDonald’s own daughter, in detail.]

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Everyone in a German uniform wasn’t a Nazi.
My father was on the opposite tide in the war, sure,
but through no fault of his own.”

~~~~~

“But then, 89 million other German loathed the Nazis, too,
and I can’t to this day figure out where all the people came from
that stood beneath Hitler’s balcony and cheered.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

MacDonald Story (Con’t.)

The Hometowner by Bill Beeney

“THE FLYING DUTCHMAN’S” daughter – and an Associated Press reporter in Seattle – cleared up a puzzling point: How did Walter Hanemann, the former Rochesterian who was in the Luftwaffe, get back to Rochester so soon after the war?

The daughter had read the story of Ted MacDonald’s World War II experience, meeting Hanemann in Germany in 1944 and encountering him again, shortly after the war, in a Park Avenue candy shop. She wanted to “straighten some things out.”  MacDonald is advertising sales manager for Hammer Lithograph Corp. and lives in Arlington Drive, Pittsford.

We knew that Hanemann’s daughter still lived in Rochester, but deliberately omitted mentioning her name and address.  She is married and has a daughter.

Then, two days ago, Jack Koehler of the AP’s Seattle Bureau brought the picture into sharper focus with a letter.  He had seen the story because it was on the opposite side of a page containing a story Koehler had written about the Central Intelligence Agency.  Someone sent him the page.

* * *

SAID Walter Hanemann’s daughter: “The way my father got back to the U.S. so fast after the war was because the FBI brought him here to work for them.”  What sort of “work,” we wondered?

“He testified in some cases involving American soldiers who were charged with being AWOL.”

“Don’t forget,” she said. “Everyone in a German uniform wasn’t a Nazi.  My father was on the opposite tide in the war, sure, but through no fault of his own.  His father died in 1937.  There was a matter of inheritance, and my father went back to Germany from Rochester in 1938.  My mother and I joined him later.  Twenty days after we arrived, war broke out.  My father was a German citizen and he was drafted.  He had no choice.

“He wasn’t an ogre, by any means.  He was a trim, slim, neat man, about 5 feet 8 1/2, 135 pounds, and quick tempered.  I remember one time he brought an American and a British flier home from Dulag Luft (the interrogation center).  One of them gave me his talisman, a rag doll he carried in his bomber.  The other gave me a handmade figure; it was a combination of Paul Bunyan and Popeye the Sailor.

“Just before the end of the war, my father and two other German soldiers rounded up 20 American prisoners and took them to the American lines.  They surrendered themselves to the Americans, too.  My father was sent to a prison camp in England.”

FROM JACK KOEHLER came this information which Ted MacDonald’s 12 year old daughter, Karen, can add to her store of lore about her dad’s astonishing wartime experience:

“I met Hanemann in Frankfurt, Germany, in the summer of 1950.  I was working for the U.S. Air Force Counter Intelligence Corps then, and Hanemann had just returned to Germany from the United States.

“Shortly after the war, the U.S. Department of Justice charged a high-ranking U.S. Air Force officer with high treason for his conduct at the Oberursel interrogation ramp.  This officer, against whom the charges were eventually dismissed, was alleged to have worked with the German interrogators in persuading fellow POWs to tell all.’

“Hanemann, who worked with this particular American officer, was brought to the U.S. as a Justice Department witness against the Air Force officer.  I don’t know how long he was over here, but I do know that he was allowed to travel freely.  Hanemann tried his best to remain In the States, but he was returned when he served his purpose a witness.

“When I met Hanemann, he was out of a job and appeared to be completely lost in Germany.  He lived in one room and I believe the only money he had was what he had saved from his Justice Department fees.  His speech and mannerism were completely American and, I must admit in all fairness, he was an amiable and friendly feller – but then, he wasn’t my interrogator in a Nazi POW camp, either.

“Hanemann told me he came to Germany in 1939 to settle the estate of his father who had died and left him a machine company.  When he stepped off the boat at Bremen, he said, he was met by German officials who welcomed him home and into the Luftwaffe.  Hanemann said he resisted being drafted and told the Germans they couldn’t do it because he had already taken out his first papers for U.S. citizenship.  They didn’t agree, he related, and before he knew it he found himself in a Stuka, diving at Polish towns.  [Serious, or embellishment?]  He said he was blinded by a flak shell in Poland and sent to Oberursel to recuperate.

“Hanemann said he sat out the war at the Interrelation center, waiting for the day he could return to the States.  He claimed he never made any serious attempts to extract Information from Allied fliers, and loathed the Nazis, for what they had done to him.  But then, 89 million other German loathed the Nazis, too, and I can’t to this day figure out where all the people came from that stood beneath Hitler’s balcony and cheered.

“I don’t know what happened to Hanemann after our 1950 meeting.  When I saw him last, he was still looking for a job.  The wealth of his father certainly wasn’t doing him any good then.  His machine company, I believe, was reduced to rubble by Allied bombers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Though Jack Moskowitz’s essay states that Ted MacDonald died in 1992, he actually passed away (at an undeservedly young age) in 1989, as revealed in his obituary, which was published in the Democrat & Chronicle on March 17, 1989.  Not uncommon for many men of his generation, his service and experiences in the Second World War were very central to his life.  I don’t know his place of burial, but I assume it’s in the Rochester area, his own father having passed away in July of 1968.]

T.J. McDonald, Printing Exec

Rochester Democrat & Chronicle
March 17, 1989

Theodore J. McDonald, president of IPS/MacDonald Printing Co., died of cancer Tuesday at his Rochester home.  He was 65.

Born in Rochester, Mr. MacDonald graduated from the former Monroe High School in 1941.  He worked for a short time for Eastman Kodak Co.

The day Japan attacked Pearl Harbor – Dec. 7, 1941 – he enlisted in the U.S. Army Air Corps and was piloting a Flying Fortress at 18.

On March 8, 1944, he was shot down over Germany during a daylight bombing raid.

“The first engine and the inboard motors were gone,” he recalled in a 1945 interview.  “I ordered the men to bail out.  The navigator’s parachute had been hit, so I gave him mine.  I drove the plane straight down and landed in a swamp.  I then climbed through the co-pilot’s window.  As soon as I was out, the ship blew up.

“Four hours later I regained consciousness and a German dog was licking my face,” he said.  “I was then taken into custody.”

He was in a German prison camp from March 1944 until June 1945.

He was later awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.

About two years ago, a Swiss doctoral student researching downed World War II aircraft [obviously, Hans-Heiri Stapfer] tracked down Mr. MacDonald and sent him pictures of Sleepy Time Gal, his crashed B-17, said Mr. MacDonald’s son, Theodore J. MacDonald Jr., of St. Louis.

When a man is a pilot and he gives his parachute to his bombardier, I think that is quite remarkable,” said Charles Kenning, of Pittsford, a former B-24 pilot and a longtime friend of Mr. MacDonald.

“I’ve heard hundreds of stories but I think what he did was extremely heroic and commendable,” Kenning said.

xxx

References

A. Book

Dublin, Louis I., and Kohs, Samuel C., American Jews in World War II – The Story of 550,000 Fighters for Freedom, The Dial Press, New York, N.Y., 1947

A. Nother Book

Stapfer, Hans-Heiri, Strangers in a Strange Land, Squadron / Signal Publications, Inc., Carrollton, Tx., 1988