“I read where an American flier gets killed and I think of my uncle. And I see pictures of those little Chinese kids gettin’ bombed and I think of my uncle. I read where a Russian guerilla gets hanged and I think of my uncle, and I see Mike lyin’ in there dead from a Jap killer and I think of my uncle and I ain’t got no room in here to see one of our guys get buried! Not yet! Not until I’ve done something to even up the score.”
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“Why are there films in which Dutchmen, Belgians, Poles, Chinese, Britishers or any of the people who fight with us underground and above are the heroes, but not a Jew as a Jew? Are the horrors that would have to be the background of such a film if the truth were told too frightening for the box office?”
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Some movies leave a lasting impression, often in an unintended way.
For me, one such film was Delmer Daves’ production of Warner Brothers Destination Tokyo, a story about the America’s submarine service seen through the experiences of the crew of the fictional sub USS Copperfin. Released in December of 1943, the movie starred – as you can see from the poster below – Cary Grant (as sub commander Captain Cassidy), and John Garfield (as seaman “Wolf”). Other members of the cast included Dane Clark, Warner Anderson, and not to forget, Alan Hale, Sr. … the father of the “skipper” from Gilligan’s Island: Alan Hale, Jr.
I first saw the film some decades ago (I’ve seen it a few times, since). It was broadcast (remember broadcast TV?) by a local television station to accompany a telecast of Dialing for Dollars. (Remember Janis Joplin? So yeah, this dates me!) At the time, I was in my very early teens, yet by then I’d acquired an interest in and familiarity with weapons and battles of the Second World War. This came about through paperback books – fiction and non-fiction – pumped out by publishers such as Ballantine, as well as magazines aimed at devotees of plastic modelling, specifically Scale Modeler and its sister publication Scale Aircraft Modeler (there sure as hell wasn’t much else back then other than Airfix Magazine and Model Car Science), and aviation history, particularly Wings / Airpower. The latter pair was – at the time – a quantum jump over the truly mediocre Air Classics, and was only exceeded in depth and quality by the British Flying Review International.
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By way of illustration: I discovered Scale Modeler in early 1971 with the magazine’s March issue, the cover of which featured Revell’s 1/32 P-38J Lightning completed in a very colorful and highly inaccurate representation of the markings of the 459th Fighter Squadron. My reaction upon actually seeing the magazine at a newsstand? “What? Adults build model airplanes?!” Though newsstands no longer exist, having been superseded by technological and sociological changes, scale modelling has continued, but in a way enormously different from the hobby as it existed half a century ago, which might be thought of as the Paleozoic era of Plastic Modelling.
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Given the time-frame of the era, it’s unsurprising that much – not all, but definitely much – of the content of these publications pertained to World War Two, given that the war had ended a mere three decades previously; that veterans of that global conflict – so many of whom I knew – were at the time the social, vocational, cultural, and political “backbone” of American (and not just American) society; that events, weapons, and technology of that conflict – though imperfectly and inaccurately described and remembered – remained part of popular culture. Yet, looking back from the vantage point of 2023, what’s remarkable was not merely the nominal presence of that generation, but how truly ephemeral and fleeting – in the face of ensuing decades of and technological, social, and ideological change, which was ongoing even throughout the course of their lives; even well before the 1920s – was their influence, impact, and legacy. (That hefty topic could be the subject of another post…)
Paralleling all this, by then – the mid-1970s – I knew “about” the Shoah, though I don’t think this specific term was then in the public lexicon. I knew about this (anecdotally and indirectly) from family members. I knew about this (tangentially) from the two-day-a-week / two-hours-a session / late-afternoon-after-public-school Hebrew School I attended, which to be fair, was probably no different in imparting a shallow (and naively well-intentioned) level of education in Jewish history, Hebrew, and Yiddishkeit than most other Conservative or Reform Hebrew Schools of the 60s and 70s.
Instead, I learned about the Shoah through my own reading, from such books as Nora Levin’s The Holocaust: The Destruction of European Jewry… though at the time I certainly couldn’t have known about historian Raul Hilberg’s claim that Levin “heavily borrowed from (Hilberg’s) own The Destruction (of the European Jews) without acknowledgment” in the crafting of her text. And, from other readings as well; both books and news articles. So, I knew that though the Shoah transpired during and within the Second World War – in time and place – it was altogether different in purpose and nature from that war. It was part of that war, yet it was another war. To put it not-so-simply (in a way I would’ve been unable to articulate at the time!), I’ll quote the late Robert Wistrich’s Hitler and the Holocaust: “…the Holocaust was driven by a millenarian, apocalyptic ideology of annihilation that overthrew all the enlightened and pragmatic assumptions of liberal modernity. This does not in itself make it different from all other genocides but it does highlight the Holocaust as an extreme case. The centrality of anti-Semitism and that of the Jews to this cataclysmic event was no accident, and this essential fact helps to explain why it resonates so strongly. For the Holocaust cannot be divorced from the dominant religious tradition of Western civilization.” And, he quotes Richard Rubenstein: “…the Holocaust [was] a modern version of a Christian holy war carried out by a neopagan National Socialist state hostile to Christianity.”
But, I wasn’t thinking about this when I ignored my homework to sit down and watch Destination Tokyo.
At least, not at at first. At least, not in those terms. I just wanted to watch a movie. I knew it was fiction. I knew it was just a story. It was (it is, still) entertaining. It was (it remains) evocative of an era.
Lots of things happen in the film, here summarized from Wikipedia:
1) The submarine departs from “Mare Island Naval Shipyard” on a secret mission.
2) Captain Cassidy opens sealed orders, directing him to proceed to the Aleutians to pick up a Navy meteorologist, and then, to enter Tokyo Bay to obtain weather intelligence for the forthcoming Doolittle Raid.
3) Two Japanese aircraft – Zero fighter seaplanes (“Rufes“) attack the Copperfin. Both are shot down, with the pilot of the second Rufe parachuting into the sea. When a crew member – “Mike Conners” – attempts to rescue the flyer (… under Captain Cassidy’s … ahem … orders …) he’s literally and explicitly stabbed in the back by the floating pilot. Recruit Tommy Adams avenges Mike by emptying a magazine of machine-gun bullets into the enemy aviator.
4) Mike dies from his wounds.
5) A bomb dropped from that “second” Rufe is lodged in the Copperfin’s superstructure. In an event remarkably similar to that aboard HMS Thrasher on Feb. 16, 1942 (for which P/O Thomas W. Gould and Lt. Peter S.W. Roberts received the Victoria Cross), the bomb is removed and defused.
6) Mike is buried at sea. Greek-American crewman “Tin-Can”, who doesn’t attend Mike’s funeral, makes a speech.
We’ll talk about this moment in a moment.
7) Tommy is diagnosed with appendicitis. “Pills”, the submarine’s pharmacist mate successfully operates and saves the man’s life.
8) The reconnaissance party – including Wolf – debarks for Tokyo Bay, successfully securing a hiding place in a coastal cave, from which they transmit encrypted weather data to the Navy.
9) The Japanese detect the transmission and search Tokyo Bay for the submarine. Undetected, the three-man team is retrieved from theirhiding place. The crew observes the attack of the Doolittle raiders through the periscope. The submarine leaves Tokyo Bay the way it came in: by following a Japanese ship.
9) The Copperfin sinks an enemy aircraft carrier, but is damaged by an escort. After undergoing depth charge attacks, Captain Cassidy attacks again, sinking an enemy ship and escaping from Tokyo Bay.
10) The submarine and crew return to Mare Island.
– Finis –
The Doolittle Raid, which occurred on April 18, 1942, sets the film as transpiring during the first half of that month. As a minor point which wouldn’t have been known at the time (not that Warner Brothers or the Navy would’ve cared!), Rufes were only operational from bases at Kiska Harbor and Attu, in the Aleutian Islands, from June of 1942 through May of 1943, subsequent to the events of the movie. There, the planes served with Japan’s 5th, 452nd, and Toko Air Corps.
But…
…back to watching “Tin-Can”
As noted above, Tin-Can doesn’t participate in Mike’s funeral. However, based on the camera angle from which the sequence is filmed, his absence only becomes apparent when he’s seen in the sub’s galley, alone; in intense thought, while his fellow sailors stand at attention as Captain Cassidy leads the funeral service. Upon returning below, one crewmen gives Tin-Can the “silent treatment”, and then, Cookie, Tommy, and Wolf briefly express their anger at their fellow seaman. For a moment reluctantly, and then with increasing intensity, passion, and clarity, Tin-Can explains why he remained below as Mike’s remains were consigned to the deep. Wolf at first reacts with disgust, but then he and the other seamen listen attentively as Tin-Can continues his speech, uninterrupted. The sequence, which spans 56:14 – 58:49, comprises just 2 1/2 minutes in a movie that’s nearly 2 1/2 hours long, or (if we’re counting!) a mere two per cent of the length of the movie. But, it’s one of the very few explanatory moments in a movie otherwise centered upon action and adventure, humor and danger, and, patriotism.
Here’s the scene’s complete dialogue:
Tommy Adams: Why weren’t you up there?! Tin-Can: I got no use for burials. Cookie: Oh, coffee’s more important, huh? Tin-Can: You guys don’t think I care he’s dead?! Tommy Adams: Well why didn’t you come up? Sorry for that Jap? Tin-Can: Shut up you, I don’t take that from nobody! I’m surprised at you guys. All of ya’! Well you ought to have sense enough not to get such – Such dumb ideas! I told ya’ I had my reasons! Wolf: Bilge! Tin-Can: Look. I had an uncle. Lived in the old country see. A real high-class guy, not like me. You know what he was? He was a teacher of philosophy. And to be that in Greece, the very home of philosophy, you got to be a-number-one-smart and that was my uncle. So they killed him, them Nazis. They stood him up against a wall. You know why? Because he had brains. Because everybody’s got to be their slave and them that won’t like my uncle they kill. My old man was no good. He was a boozer. He died in bed having DTs. But my uncle, a man with education in his head and charity in his heart, who used to send my ma’ what to eat with when we were kids… Him they stood up against a wall and that sticks in here with me! But the difference between them and us, is that with us, even the no-good gets a chance to die in his own bed. So I don’t forget my uncle. I read where an American flier gets killed and I think of my uncle. And I see pictures of those little Chinese kids gettin’ bombed and I think of my uncle. I read where a Russian guerilla gets hanged and I think of my uncle, and I see Mike lyin’ in there dead from a Jap killer and I think of my uncle and I ain’t got no room in here to see one of our guys get buried! Not yet! Not until I’ve done something to even up the score. So I eat with it and I sleep with it… So be sore at me, you – dopes. Tommy Adams: I’m sorry, Tin-Can.
That first time I viewed Destination Tokyo, even though I knew the film was fiction, this scene was for me – in the scheme of things – a quiet epiphany; it was unlike the rest of the film.
If I reimagine my thoughts then – in the early 1970s – from the vantage point of 2023, they would’ve gone something like this stream-of-consciousness melange: “His people are from Greece and his dad’s a drunk and his family’s poor. His uncle’s a philosopher and lives in Greece. That must mean his family’s smart. He’s talking about the people who were hurt and killed by the enemy but why doesn’t he say the words Jap and German? He talks about American pilots getting killed. That’s right they’re our guys. I read about Bataan someplace and I know what happened to our pilots they captured on the Tokyo raid and my dad told me about some B-29 guys he knew who were captured. The Japs were terrible to them. He talks about the Chinese I know the Japs were really bad to them but why doesn’t he say the word Jap? Then he talks about the Russians being treated bad by the Germans. Poor Mike killed by that Jap pilot. Wait something’s not missing. It should be here. I know the Germans were bad to everybody but hated and killed the Jews most of all. So he talks about Russians and Chinese and Greeks but why can’t he talk about the Jews?”
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Note!: Having created this post in mid-June of 2023, I just (it’s now early July) discovered a video of the sequence of the Rufes attacking the Copperfin, and Mike’s death, atinfo-peace’s YouTube channel. Appropriately entitled “Destination Tokyo (1943) Enemy Aircraft”, it was uploaded way back in May of 2021.
Here it is:
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Much more to follow. But before I go further, here are screen-shots of this particular sequence (captured the Destination Tokyo DVD), as well the crew’s confrontation with “Tin-Can”, just to give you an idea. You can view the full movie (380 dpi) at ok.ru/video, this sequence starting at 56:14.
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Rufes sighted…
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Rufes dive to attack…
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Rufe strafes submarine. (Those paired machine guns aren’t quiiite right for a Zero / Rufe. Oh, well.)
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Pilot leans forward as he dives to attack the Copperfin…
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A low pass!
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This profile by Don Greer shows the appearance of an actual A6M2-N “Rufe”. The painting, from Squadron-Signal’s A6M Zero in Action, shows an aircraft of the Solomon Island based 802nd Kokutai, as it appeared in January of 1943.
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Pilot bails out. (Canopy not at all right for a Zero / Rufe. Oh, well. Must’ve been a Warner Brothers stage prop.)
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Pilot lands in sea and cuts himself free from his shroud lines.
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Captain Cassidy: “Pick up that Jap Aviator, I want to question him!”
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Mike tells downed Japanese pilot in comradely manner: “Looks like the war is over for you, son!” Camera focuses on knife in pilot’s upraised hand as Mike momentarily diverts his attention…
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…and then, the pilot stabs Mike – poor unwary and trusting Mike – in the back.
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Wolf and Tommy look on in horrified realization of what’s happening. Then, Tommy commences firing machine gun at enemy pilot.
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The magazine is emptied of bullets. Wolf to Tommy: “That’s enough, kid.”
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58:49: Tin-Can and fellow crewmen listen to a recording made by Mike’s wife, on sub’s record player. As the recording becomes more personal and intimate, they leave, one by one.
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54:10: Wolf continues to listen, alone, but he, too – even a lothario – can listen no more.
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54:43: Tin-Can remains in the galley, flipping playing cards, as Mike is buried at sea.
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56:22: Captain Cassidy:“And whilst we consign his remains to the deep …”
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56:06: Crewmen return to galley and confront Tin-Can
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56:26: Tommy and Tin-Can.
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56:36: Cookie and Tin-Can
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56:39: Cookie, Tin-Can, and Tommy
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57:09: Tin-Can tries to explain the reason for his absence at Mike’s funeral. Wolfe’s reply:“Bilge!”
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57:10: Tin-Can’s speech
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57:29: Tin-Can’s speech
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57:33: Tin Can’s uncle: “He was a teacher of philosophy.”
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57:47: Crewmen listen to Tin-Can, in silence.
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57:32: “Not until I’ve done something to even up the score.”
Back to the film…
Some things; things ostensibly minor; things ostensibly trivial but in reality significant, kind of “stick with you” and in time demand explanation. As a movie buff, I really wanted to know what went on in the writing of this movie. So I watched it again, did a little looking, and did a little thinking.
The film’s credits reveal that the screenplay was by Delmer Daves and Albert Maltz, the story by Steve Fisher, and the production by Jerry Wald and Jack L. Warner. I suppose that by this point, eighty years later, the relative contributions of each to the final script will never be known. Regardless, it seems that Tin-Can’s speech, which notably occurs near the film’s halfway point and thereby interrupts action with thought, provided a way to explain the moral basis of America’s participation in the war: First by personalizing the film in terms of Tin-Can’s family (read: ethnic) history, then, from the perspective of another branch of American military service (aviation), and finally, in terms of two other principal Allied powers: The Soviet Union, and, China. (Funny that Australia, Canada, and Great Britain aren’t mentioned.) And so in terms of what puzzled me as a kid – “Hey why didn’t Tin-Can say Jew?“, part of the explanation was simply that the Jews, without then having a nation-state and collective political and military power of their own and as such not directly active in the war as a nation-state, were entirely beyond from the writers’ scope of thought.
The Jews were irrelevant.
Maybe.
But then again…
Jerry Wald was a Jew, as was Jack Warner. In unsurprising irony, so, too, was “Tin-Can”, played by Dane Clark, born Bernard Elliot Zanville. So too, “Wolf”, played by John Garfield, born Jacob Julius Garfinkle. And Albert Maltz, as well. And so I can’t help but wonder: Given the tenor of the times, were Tin-Can’s comments about his family really a veiled allusion to the fate of European Jewry? His Greek background symbolic of a family ancestry rooted in the the Levant? His philosopher uncle a stand-in for intellectuality, and, the study of the Talmud and Tanakh? Was Tin-Can speaking on behalf of studio heads, writers, and actors who wanted to bring the plight of the Jews of Europe before the American public, but for all their success and prominence – or precisely despite of their success and prominence – did not have the confidence to openly do so for fear of risking their social acceptability? The Warner studio certainly did produce films that supported America’s war effort and were openly critical of German militarism and the Third Reich. But, the tenor of the times and self-perception of those Jews who had attained high levels of status and public recognition in American society would mitigate against going so far as to call attention to the Shoah in clear, unambiguous, and explicit terms. As well, though Albert Maltz’s relative contribution to the script is unknown, what is known is that he was an unapologetic Communist. Could his ideology have imparted the sense of universalism in the seaman’s speech? (Maybe.)
Then again, perhaps interpreting Tin-Can’s 1943 speech this way is really interpreting the past through the eyes of 2023.
But still, even in mid-1943, four months before the release of Destination Tokyo, the issue was confronted in Aufbau’s August 27 editorial “Are Jewish Themes “Verboten?” by “H.K.”, probably Helen Kantzler, one of Aufbau’s rare publications of a news item in English. If the author indeed was Kantzler, it was also she who authored an article that appeared in Pittsburgh’s Jewish Criterion in late September of 1946, entitled “Double Gold Stars“, which profiled American Jewish families who lost multiple sons during the recently ended world war.
Her question about the principle of telling the truth is as valid in 2023 as it was in 1943, for it will always be valid.
Film-Panorama ARE JEWISH THEMES “VERBOTEN”?
H.K. There have been many pictures on America at war. There have been films of England under the Blitz, France, Holland, Belgium and Czechoslovakia under the Nazi heel. There have been Hollywood presentations of our allies, form gigantic China with its four hundred millions to little Greece with its seven. But there has not yet been a film about Jews.
There has neither been a film about the amazing contributions to the war of gallant Palestine, democracy’s arsenal for the Middle East of manpower, technical knowledge, food, arms and ammunition, alone against countries that were all hostile or neutral at the best, when things were going bad in that part of the world.
Nor has there been a portrayal on the screen of the greatest, the most horrifying tragedy history has witnessed in many centuries, the slaughter of the Jews of Europe. Even the battle of Warsaw, the very thought of which hurts in its poignant drama, didn’t get a shot in a newsreel.
Sure, individual Jews or even families have been worked into refugee movies. But they were always individuals, refugees like all others, except that their crime in a Nazi-Europe was to have been Jews. Never, in all the many motion pictures that have been turned out, has there been one that was honest about Jews. That showed that their suffering, their crushing, their fight and their death was not that of one human being, multiplied, but that of a people.
Why are there films in which Dutchmen, Belgians, Poles, Chinese, Britishers or any of the people who fight with us underground and above are the heroes, but not a Jew as a Jew? Are the horrors that would have to be the background of such a film if the truth were told too frightening for the box office?
But then what about the story of those that fought back? That fought back in Warsaw and in the ghettoes. And those that are fighting today in the underground (they have to fight as separate units) or those that stopped Nazi tanks with their hands and picks and shovels in Dunkirk; those that helped to hold Alamein and Tobruk so that the last street that surrendered when Rommel advanced was called “Tel Aviv”? The girls that served right in the front lines and the boys that go down to the sea in ships, those that fight with “Palestine” on their shoulder and the Magen David on their caps
Must they, too, fight and die “unwept, unhonored and unsung?” Is there no one in the motion picture industry that has the strength and the guts to tell the truth, and tell it for the people of America to see?
The original editorial…
…the editorial as it appeared in the newspaper.
So to conclude, here’s the “what if” version of Tin-Can’s speech:
Look. I had an uncle. Stayed in the old country. A real mensch, not like me. Know what a mensch is? It’s Jewish for a true man. A decent man. Ya’ know what he did? He was a rabbi. Taught poor kids. A cobbler, too. Could hardly feed and clothe my aunt and cousins. But so respected. So they killed him, them Germans. We found out, last year. Took the whole family – my three cousins – uncle, aunt – stuck ’em in a ghetto. Took ’em all – everyone in the ghetto – and shot ’em. Everyone. Y’know why? Because they were Jews. Like me. That’s all. Because the damned no-goods want to kill every Jew. Anywhere. Everywhere.
My old man was lost to us. He was a boozer. Smart, like my uncle. Loved to learn and study Hebrew books, but there’s no place for that in America. So see my mom, she worked in a shirt factory while pop turned to drink and dreams. And drink. He wandered off; we don’t know where. Don’t want to know. My pop, the dreamer… But my starving uncle, the rabbi … see, he sent us charity. Because of him my mom and sisters and me … had what to eat. Had heat in the winter. Him and my cousins and aunt the Germans stood over a ditch and shot and that sticks inside me.
But the difference between them and us, is that with us, even the no-good gets a chance to die in his own bed. I read where an American flier gets killed and I think of my uncle. And I see pictures of those little Chinese kids gettin’ bombed and I think of my aunt. I read where a Russian guerilla gets hanged and I think of my little cousins. And I see Mike lyin’ there dead from a Jap killer and I ain’t got no room in me to see one of our guys get buried! Not yet! Not until I’ve done something to even up the score. For my family. For the Jews. For Mike. For my country. For them all.
So I eat with it and I sleep with it… So be sore at me, you – dopes.
Tommy Adams: I didn’t know, Tin-Can.
See?
I fixed it for you.
(There you go.)
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Destination Tokyo movie poster from SensCritique. It’s obviously based on the horizontal-format poster (at the top of this post!), but redesigned for a theater marquee.
“John Garfield: Hollywood’s First Rebel”, at Cinema Cities.
“Bursting onto screens in 1938, Warner Brothers star Garfield captivated audiences with his unparalleled talent, charisma, and a unique style that set him apart from his contemporaries. Garfield’s on-screen presence was magnetic, his performances filled with raw emotion and authenticity. Whether portraying a troubled anti-hero, a conflicted lover, or a defiant underdog in films like “Four Daughters,” “Body and Soul,” “Humoresque” and “The Postman Always Rings Twice,” he breathed life into every character he inhabited, leaving an indelible mark on cinema history.
Beyond his remarkable acting abilities, Garfield was a trailblazer in his own right. He fearlessly tackled societal issues and pushed boundaries with his choice of roles, often shining a light on the harsh realities of the time. His commitment to his craft and unwavering dedication to social justice resonate even today. However, his unwavering stance against injustice came at a price. Accused of harboring Communist sympathies, he was blacklisted by HUAC.”
I previously wrote of the 8th Air Force’s mission to Derben, Germany – specifically focusing on the losses incurred by the 390th “Square J” Bomb Group “here”. But, there’s more…
The references I consulted for that post included both volumes (I, and II) of the 390th Memorial Museum Foundation’s 390th Bomb Group Anthology, which were published in 1983 and 1985, respectively, and edited by Wilbert H. Richarz, Richard H. Perry, and William J. Robinson. The books include five essays about the mission – three in volume one, and three in volume two – and I thought it’d be worthwhile to create another post (“this one”!) – to present their stories and broaden historical memory of the events of January Sunday in the skies west of Berlin, nearly eight decades ago. And so, below are full transcripts of written accounts by T/Sgt. George J. Zadzora and S/Sgt. Ralph K. Spence (members of the same crew), and 2 Lt. Melvin L. Johnson (volume I), as well as Lt. Rafael H. Galceran, Jr., and Sgt. Vincent K. Johnson (volume I). Of these five men, Zadzora, Spence, and Johnson did not return to Framlingham, England; they were shot down and survived as POWs. Galceran and Johnson, members of the same crew, the latter severely wounded and enduring a very long recovery, returned aboard their damaged B-17.
These stories are accompanied by images of the insignia of the 568th, 569th, and 571st Bomb Squadrons. These were scanned from Albert E. Milliken’s The Story of the 390th Bombardment Group (H).
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More information about the Derben mission can be found in the prior blog post. In the meantime, here are some Oogle maps and air photos showing the geographic setting of Derben relative to the Berlin metropolitan area, and, two official Army Air Force photos taken during the mission, probably from automatic strike cameras. (These images also appear at the prior post.)
This map shows the location of Derben relative to Berlin. A formerly independent municipality, in September 2001 it merged with the six municipalities of Bergzow, Ferchland, Güsen, Hohenseeden, Parey and Zerben to form the larger municipality of Elbe-Parey, which in 2021 had a population of about 6350.
Oogling in more closely reveals Derben’s street layout. As is more evident in the images below, the target of the 8th Air Force’s January 14 mission – underground petroleum storage tanks – was not located in the town itself, but instead in the undeveloped (and still so today) wooded area adjacent to the eastern edge of the municipality…
…which is revealed below, in an air photo at the same scale as the above map. Currently, the area – designated the Crosstreke Ferchland – is a location for motocross racing, evident by the numerous trails (designated in gray) through the area.
Army Air Force Photo 55871AC / A21154 shows the oil storage tank area near Derben at the beginning or in the midst of the 8th Air Force’s attack. This and the subsequent photo have been rotated, via Photoshop, such that they conform to geographic north, consistent with the maps above.
Also – presumably – photographed from the automatic camera of a higher aircraft, Army Air Force photo (56022AC / A21155) shows a 390th Bomb Group B-17G – notice the square-J on the plane’s starboard wing? – flying north-northwest over the Elbe River. Due to the dispersal of smoke and debris from bomb explosions – obscuring a wider area than in the image above – this photo was probably taken subsequent to picture 55871AC. While the municipality of Derben appears to be undamaged, it looks (?) as if some bombs have fallen onto the uninhabited land to the west of the municipality, which would account for the billowing cloud of smoke rising into the sky from that location.
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Volume I
“He Endured a 850 Mile Forced P.O.W. March”
George J. Zadzora, Radio Operator-Gunner, 568th Bomb Squadron
“Time was a commodity that we had in abundance.”
THIS was our 34th combat mission. If we completed this mission and one more then our tour of duty would be completed and we would be homeward bound — IF!
Our mission this morning January 14, 1945 took us over Germany flying a south-easterly heading toward Berlin. Our escort Mustangs were above us crisscrossing the formation, and watching over their “big brothers”. The target was underground fuel storage tanks in the Berlin area.
We were about 10 or 15 minutes away from the IP. I was in the radio room monitoring the code messages from the station in England. I looked out the window and saw a P-51 flying about 150 feet below and going in the opposite direction to the flight of the bombers. I immediately signed “off watch” on the radio log, disconnected the oxygen and intercom, went to the right waist position, connected oxygen and intercom, then unhooked the gun from its stored position.
Over the intercom gunners were calling out the location and number of enemy fighters. An FW-190 flew past, then went into a loop with a P-47 on its tail. This is the first time that I saw a Thunderbolt fending off enemy fighters so I assumed that there were a lot of enemy fighters attacking. An ME-109 passed by very close, belly towards me and I let go a long burst from the 50 calibre. The other gunners were blasting away. An FW-190 passed by in the same manner as the 109 and I gave it a long burst. I looked momentarily inside the fuselage and saw there were long openings, about 2 feet in length. These were caused by machine gun and cannon fire from enemy fighters attacking from behind.
The next thing I experienced was a sensation that felt like about a dozen bee stings. I knew I was hit. The left waist gunner, Spence, went down but got up again, so I knew he had been hit. Over the intercom came the words, “Bail out, we’re on fire.”
Horan, the ball-turret gunner, got out of the ball and clipped on his chute as did Spence in the waist. My chute was in the radio room, so I had to go there to get it. As I turned and headed for the radio room, I could see flames and a grayish smoke in the radio room. I had no choice but to go and look for my chute.
As I went into the radio room, the smoke came in contact with my eyes, they began to burn. I inhaled a small amount of smoke and began to cough. The flames were about 3 feet from me. I got down on my hands and knees, eyes closed and began searching for the chute by feeling with my hands. At first, I couldn’t find it so I began moving about on my knees and feeling for a bulge that would be the chute. It wasn’t in the usual position where I kept it, but then I felt it with one hand, then both hands to be sure. I found the chute.
I got out of the radio room fast and to the rear exit door, clipping the chute to the harness as I went. I reached the exit door and without hesitation went out feet first.
Eight or ten seconds after leaving the ship, my right hand grabbed the chute ring and pulled – nothing happened. Pulled again – nothing happened. A few more tries and no results. Thoughts went through my mind – is something stuck? There seemed to be only one thing to do and that was to use both hands on the chute ring and pull hard. This was done and the chute opened at approximately 18,000 or 19,000 feet.
As I drifted down, 2 ME-109s came into view and circled clockwise around me. They descended at the same rate as my descent. After several circles they broke away and disappeared.
The ground was getting closer now and I was drifting toward a wooded area with several open spaces. By this time, I had a good idea of where the landing would take place: in a small clearing with a scattering of small trees.
As I hit the ground, I lost my balance and fell down. I then got up, unfastened the harness, rolled it and the chute into a compact roll and hid it in the nearby woods. It was now apparent that I could walk well. I felt a severe pain in my right arm. It now dawned on me that with a wounded right arm, I didn’t have the strength to open the chute initially.
It was early afternoon, I checked the position of the sun, determined which direction was west and started walking. I found that by supporting the right arm in a position like that of being in a sling, the pain would lessen. Heading westward, I avoided small towns by walking around them, across fields and thru wooded areas staying off the roads until dusk. I came upon a haystack on the edge of a field and slept there the first night in enemy territory.
Surprisingly, I slept well that night and awoke just after dawn. Checking the position of the early sun, I headed in a westerly direction keeping off the roads to be less conspicuous. I was able to avoid people living in the area until late that morning. While crossing a small field, I was approached by 2 boys. One was about 15 years of age, the younger one about 10. I decided not to change direction or start to run but continued walking towards them until we met. The boys noticed my flight suit and asked me if I spoke German. I replied that I did not speak German in one of the few phrases I know of that language. Then I asked the older boy in the Slovak language if he understood what I said and to my astonishment, he replied in Slovak. We spoke for several minutes, then he invited me to go to his brother’s home which I assumed to be a mile or two away.
As we three walked along, we were approached by a German soldier carrying a rifle. He was about 16 years of age and began conversing in German with the two youngsters I met some 10 minutes previously. The young soldier then indicated by pointing his finger in the direction that I was to walk and he followed me, and at no time did he provoke or abuse me. I still carried my right arm as though it was in a sling. It still pained me.
We entered a small town, walked past a number of houses, then the young guard indicated to me to walk through a gateway and to the front door of a house. This house was the Burgomeister’s home.
The Burgomeister answered the door and he and the young soldier talked in German. Then I was asked to go inside the house by a hand sign along with the young soldier.
Inside the house, the Burgomeister dialed a number, presumably to notify the authorities that a prisoner was here in his home and to send a guard escort. He was on the phone for quite some time and it seemed to me that phone connections were difficult to make because of the time lapses between phone conversations and the number of times that he dialed.
The Burgomeister’s wife was there and while her husband was phoning, she indicated to me to be seated at the kitchen table. This I did. She then placed before me, two slices of bread, butter, knife and a cup of black ersatz coffee, that had an acorn-like flavor.
While eating the buttered bread and coffee, she sat down at the table and spoke in German using only basic words and hand gestures rather than long sentences. I believe that she was saying that their son was in the service and that he was about my age.
Shortly afterwards, an army truck stopped in front of the house and two guards came inside while the driver remained in the truck. It was time to go.
As I approached the front door to leave, I turned around to the Burgomeister and his wife who were standing side-by-side, and said two of the very few German words that I knew – “Danke schon” – and departed with the two guards.
We climbed in the back of the truck with a canvas cover and sat on a bench seat facing backwards with myself in the middle and the guards on either side of me. The driver started the truck and we drove off into the night to a temporary cell at a military installation where I stayed that night.
The next morning I was escorted by two guards, taken on a train from Berlin to a camp about 30 or 40 miles south of that city.
After being searched, I was led to a cell that was barricaded with a stout piece of lumber about four feet long resting on steel brackets. Removal of this lumber permitted the door to the cell to be opened and in I went. The cell was about ten feet long by six feet wide with a very small window set high in the wall near the ceiling opposite the door. The only thing that I could see when I looked out the window was the sky.
There was a bed of rough lumber with a carpet on it about four feet long and two feet wide. These were the only items in the cell.
While in the cell, I received one bowl of watery soup in the evening that was delivered to my cell. I was permitted to the latrine three times a day – morning, noon and evening, each time accompanied by a guard. There was no reading material, no one to talk with so I spent my time with my thoughts.
I spent six days at this camp where I was interrogated then taken by train northward through Berlin and Stettin then eastward to a camp somewhere in the northwest or northern part of Poland in an isolated area.
I was taken into a small room and searched by a young English-speaking German. After being searched, he showed me, by pointing, a small wooden railing about 18 inches high and about 15 feet inside the wire enclosure. It was made of about 3/4 inch square wood stock having only a top rail and supported by vertical wooden stakes driven into the ground. He warned me that if I so much as touched that wood railing the guards have orders to shoot to kill.
I was assigned to a room in one of the barracks. This room was about 20 feet square having one door, one window and a single light bulb in the center of the ceiling. The double-decker bunks of rough lumber against each of the four walls provided sleeping facilities for 16 men. With my appearance that made 24 men occupying that room. Eight of us slept on the floor without the straw mattresses.
The first thing mentioned to me by the men with whom I was to share the room was that under no circumstances should I touch the wood railing because the guards have orders to shoot to kill. I was informed that a few of our guys didn’t believe that warning, touched the railing and were shot dead by the guards in the tower.
That evening for our meal one of the fellows in our room was authorized to go to the central kitchen where the meal was prepared, usually soup with potatoes and whatever the G.I. cooks could find to add to the soup. It was brought to our room in a metal bucket and carefully ladled out so that each man would receive an equal portion. There was no meat in the soup but previously there had been. The meat came from occasional large dogs that ran loose in the compound, who were caught and added to the soup except for one tiny dog that was too small to qualify for the soup kettle so it became a pet.
Red Cross parcels were received from time to time that supplemented our evening meal of soup. Depending on the number of parcels determined the distribution to each individual. At times several G.I.s divided a food parcel and each man kept his own food supply along with a ration of bread that was provided by our captors. For anyone to steal another man’s food was considered a most serious matter.
Time was a commodity that we had in abundance. We kept occupied by walking around the compound, playing cards and checkers, reading, keeping diaries, playing soft-ball during warm weather, hand washing the few items of clothing, writing a few letters and cards per month since that is all that was permitted, making pencil sketches on paper when it was available, preparing a snack during the day from our individual food supply, making items from the cans we received in our Red Cross parcels (such as hand-operated mixers for stirring coffee, tea and powdered milk), etc.
In early February, 1945, we were told at evening roll call to be prepared to move out the next morning. Nothing was said about our destination, just pack up and be ready. About a week before I had received some new G.I. clothing and a new pair of G.I. shoes.
Extra clothing was rolled up in a small bundle to be carried along with whatever food we had, plus the blankets that were rolled up and tied with rope or a strip of cloth in such a way as to carry it like a suitcase or over the shoulder like a set of golf clubs. Immediately after morning roll call the guards escorted us out the camp and we were on our way.
We could only assume that the Russians coming from the east were getting close to this internment camp and in all likelihood we would be marching west.
The weather was cold. After walking 4 or 5 days, it was possible to determine the general direction in which we were going, using the sunrise and sunset as reference points. It was generally west.
About a day later, we crossed the Oder River, south of Stettin.
One week went by, then two weeks. Food was now more scarce. We began to search for anything edible along the road as we travelled westward. Sometimes a potato would be found by an alert pair of eyes, or perhaps a carrot or some other vegetable.
Whenever possible we were given shelter in a barn but some evenings we slept outdoors. Harry had three blankets and so did I. Three blankets were spread on the ground and the other three used to cover us. Sometimes the blankets would be spread on damp ground or damp grass since no dry places were available. Eventually the moisture would be soaked up by the blankets on which we slept which resulted in a soggy and uncomfortable night.
We walked almost every day but occasionally we would get a day’s rest. When we did, a large part of the day was spent lying to conserve our energy for the next day’s march.
During our march we crossed the Elbe river indicating that we were still going west. During the many weeks of the march, the weather varied – snow, rain, sleet, fog, sunshine – but generally cold and at times very cold. We usually travelled 15 to 25 miles per day and several times near 30 miles. Our bodies ached with fatigue and our stomachs pained for food, which was scarce causing loss of weight. We all developed short tempers. Morale was dropping even lower. Those unable to walk rode in horse-drawn wagons.
One clear morning, a few hours after sunrise, a loud noise shattered the calm air. It came from beyond a low ridge some 400 feet to our right. Moments later, a V-2 rocket appeared, accelerated rapidly and disappeared some 20 seconds later. We watched in awe while the guards, pointing fingers at the rocket, cheered loudly until it was out of sight.
We were all very fatigued from so much walking and so little food. We were taken to a P.O.W. camp at Fallingbostel which was occupied by R.A.F. internees. This camp was located about 50 miles south of Hamburg and about 160 miles west of Berlin. The camp was crowded, tents were erected and we stayed there for about 3 or 4 days. The next day an R.A.F. internee came into our tent holding a piece of paper and asked that we gather around him while lookouts were stationed at each end of the tent to notify us in case German guards came near.
He then began to read from the paper in his hand. It was the latest war news from the B.B.C.
After hearing the news, I asked one of the P.O.W.s, a Canadian, how is the news obtained? He explained that when work parties were sent out to cut wood, a few of them drifted off to where a Lancaster bomber was downed and proceeded to bring in radio parts taken from that plane. They had to be careful not to be seen by the guards as they smuggled the parts into camp. In time enough parts had been gathered, a receiver assembled, tuned to the B.B.C. frequency and the news was then handwritten on paper and read to the prisoners at Fallingbostel.
After a short rest, we were then moved out of that camp. The march began again, this time eastward crossing the Elbe River and later the Oder River. This took us back into Poland not far from our original starting point.
Part of this trip we travelled by train. I have no positive way of knowing how far we travelled but I assume it was about 60 or 70 miles. The train would rumble along then stop for hours at a time.
We were jammed into the box cars and doors locked. During the night, it was pitch black inside; during the day only a small amount of light entered the box car and this was from small cracks around the door. Those who had food could eat; those who did not couldn’t. No sanitation facilities were available, not even a bucket.
It was now about the end of March, 1945. Our march continued northward then westward from Poland for the second time. We again crossed the Oder River north of Stettin, followed the Baltic coast line, through the town of Swinemunde, then headed away from the Baltic Sea.
The days were getting longer and the weather became warmer. This was some consolation but we were still captives, hungry, weak, dirty and tired.
As we continued westward for the second time, ominous signs were evident. A flight of four Mustangs flew over at about 4,000 feet unchallenged. We went by an airfield of parked JU-88s none of which were operational; explosives were used to totally destroy the cockpits of these planes. A squadron of B-17s bombed a target several miles away at an altitude of about 4,000 or 5,000 feet with no enemy opposition.
With the Allies coming from the west and the Russians from the east, German controlled areas were considerably reduced and so were the distances that we walked each day. Now it was marches of only 5 to 8 miles each day.
Plodding along at a slow pace, we went past some buildings on a small rise of land that looked familiar. Suddenly the name came to my mind – Fallingbostel. This was the same camp where we rested some 6 weeks previously.
From the morning in early February, 1945, when we began our march, one name comes to mind immediately. The name is Dr. Pollack, an English doctor who with his medical assistants walked every mile of our trek. It was they who carried the medical supplies in addition to their possessions and administered to the wounded and sick during our entire journey.
One day after a tiring march, we stopped just outside of a small town to rest for the night. It was getting dark and we were almost totally exhausted. Dr. Pollack went to the nearby houses, knocked on doors and told the people that there were a lot of sick people in our group and requested that they bring hot water to us which they did. Buckets and buckets of hot water arrived enabling us to have a hot drink.
It was April 13, 1945. On this day, we walked through a small town while some of the villagers watched as we passed. One of our guys named Gunzberg spoke German fluently and stopped momentarily to talk with a few of the local inhabitants. Moments later he joined us and gave us the news that he just received and that was that President Roosevelt died yesterday, April 12. (“Gunzberg” was probably T/Sgt. Werner J. Gunzburger, a radio interceptor in 726th Bomb Squadron, 451st Bomb Group, 15th Air Force, shot down and captured July 14, 1944. Born in Landau, Germany, on January 1, 1922, he was the son of Lily Gunzburger, of Holland Street in New Orleans. One of the twelve crew members of Capt. Richard S. Long in B-24G 42-72808 (covered in MACR 6900 and Luftgaukommando Report ME 1724) – all surviving their “shoot-down” – his name does not appear in American Jews in World War II. He died in March of 1996.)
It was now late in April 1945. The outcome of the war was no longer in doubt. Our captors took us to a delousing station, divided us into groups of about 40 where we showered. Our clothing was placed in individual wire baskets and sent to a delouser. I looked at my body, arms and legs and couldn’t believe how frail I was weighing about 75 pounds. I lost nearly 100 pounds during this ordeal of nearly three months. This was the second time that I was able to take a shower. The other shower was taken during the first visit to Fallingbostel.
I wore the same clothes, day and night, during this march from when it began in early February until May 2, 1945, when we were liberated by armored units of the British Second Army.
Recently I referred to maps of our march to determine the approximate distance that we travelled. After locating the names of familiar towns, I began measuring distances from point to point on a straight line basis; the distances that we walked would be greater since we walked on secondary roads with curves, hills and frequent changes of direction.
The first leg of our journey was from our camp in Poland westward to Fallingbostel, a distance of about 300 miles. From Fallingbostel, we travelled eastward some 250 miles back to Poland. Another 50 miles northward to the coast of the Baltic Sea. Westward again to Fallingbostel for approximately 275 miles and finally about 40 miles to the northeast near the town of Luneberg where we were liberated. This comes to about 915 miles less about 75 miles for the train ride which brings the total of approximately 840 miles point to point distance.
I assume that we walked a minimum of about 850 miles and this distance was walked using a single pair of G.I. shoes.
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“Tribute to Zad”
Ralph K. Spence, Waist Gunner, 568th Bomb Squadron
THIS is about our radio man, George Zadzora. The day we went down 14th January ‘45 near Berlin. I was knocked unconscious. When I came to, Zad was shooting from the right waist gun and he really made a tune on it. I was facing the radio room, the bomb-bay door was open and it looked like a furnace. I hit Zad on the leg and snowed him the fire – our wings were on fire.
He said, “Get the parachute on.” He grabbed me under the armpit and dragged me to the waist door and pulled the pin release. The door fell off and out I went with it.
He went back and got Jim Horan out of the ball turret. He was all shot up – his foot, knee and elbow. He put his parachute on him and dragged him to the door and pushed him out. By that time the smoke was so bad he had to crawl on hands and knees to find his own parachute and bail out.
I don’t think there is any medal high enough to repay Zad for his guts and courage under fire. Jim nor I could never have made it to the door without him. “Thanks again, Zad!”
George Zadzora and Ralph Spence were crewmen aboard B-17G 42-102956, BI * K, otherwise known as “Doc’s Flying Circus” / “Girl of My Dreams“. Unfortunately, there don’t seem to be any photos of this Fortress, which crashed two kilometers south of Vietznitz / three kilometers south-southeast of Friesack. As you can see from the crew list below, Lt. Paul Goodrich and S/Sgt. Losch, the bomber’s pilot and tail gunner, were killed, the bomber’s seven other crew members surviving as POWs. The plane’s loss is covered in MACR 11726 and Luftgaukommando Report KU 3570.
These two Oogle maps show the approximate crash location of Doc’s Flying Circus, based on information in KU 3570.
First, a “close-up” of Vietnitz and Friesack…
…and the crash site’s location, relative to Berlin.
This image of Paul Goodrich’s crew is via the 390th Memorial Museum. Crewmens’ names are listed below the photo.
Togglier: Not in photo: Piston, Frank H., Jr., S/Sgt., 3362401 – Survived Lansdale, Pa.
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“Mission 243 – Derben, Germany”
Melvin L. Johnson- Navigator, 571st Squadron
“The next thing I remember I was on the snow-covered ground.”
OUR target for the January 14, 1945 mission was an oil dump near Derben, Germany. I was the navigator and the clear, sunny weather made that job easy, but it also was bad as it provided no cloud cover for our planes. We encountered some light flak at the coast, but everything went fairly well until noon. As we were approaching the IP about 100 FW-190 and ME-109 German fighters hit us. All eight aircraft remaining in the G Squadron and one from A Squadron were shot down.
We were shot down on the first pass. The 20mm shells were exploding in front of the plane and when they hit us we were really knocked around. The plane started spinning and Ross Hanneke called on the intercom, “Bail out! I can’t hold her!” I was wearing my flak vest over my parachute harness so I pulled the quick release on the flak vest. The release worked, but the front half of the vest was hanging from my oxygen mask as I had clipped the oxygen hose to it. I pulled off the oxygen mask and grabbed for the chest chute pack laying by my feet. Instead of the carrying handle I got the rip cord handle and opened the chute in the plane! With no choice, I gathered the chute up and managed to snap it to the harness. Fred Getz, the bombardier, was near me, chute on and ready to bail out.
The next thing I remember I was on the snow-covered ground. I had a bloody nose, a contusion of my right knee, no gloves, no flying boots or heated inserts and most of the wires were pulled out of the right leg of my heated suit. There was airplane wreckage in the field about 1/4 mile from me, large chunks of aluminum but no definite part I could recognize. The German Home Guards, wearing arm bands and carrying shotguns, were approaching. I believe the plane had exploded and I had been knocked unconscious. The open parachute must have pulled me out of the nose section at some fairly low altitude, as I did not have frozen fingers or toes. The temperature was about minus 40 degrees Fahrenheit at the 29,000 ft. altitude where we encountered the fighters, and well below freezing at ground level. When hit we still had our bomb load and a large amount of gas. I know we were hit many times on their initial pass and I assume the German fighters continued the attack until something drastic happened. It’s hard to believe no one else survived of our 10 man crew unless the plane had exploded.
The home guards ordered me to carry my parachute to a farm house near-by and sit on the parachute to await the military authorities. I had a “Mae West” life vest on and decided to see if the CO2 cylinders worked. Only one side inflated but that scared the German Guards as they thought I was going to blow myself up. Later a German looked me over, took out his pocket knife, grabbed my wrist, then cut the cloth band on my wristwatch. It was about this point I found I still had my 45 automatic in the shoulder holster, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t speak German and the guards didn’t speak English. When I tried to talk they indicated that I should just sit still and be quiet, that someone was going for an interpreter. The interpreter finally arrived and I stood up to tell him I still had my pistol. “Pistol” they all understood and it really upset them. The interpreter took the pistol and cut the holster harness to remove it, but it wouldn’t pull off as the bottom was snapped around my belt. After several jerks I managed to have him allow me to open my coat and unsnap the holster. If they were trying to impress me with their sharp knives, it worked, but I expected them to shoot me anyway.
An hour or so later a German Air Force enlisted man came along on his bicycle. He had me walk to another farm house where he searched me and made a list of all my belongings. At this farm I met two other U.S. airmen. One had a bad leg wound while the other was uninjured. At dusk we were told to climb onto a horse drawn wagon which I believed to be loaded with parachutes, coats, and other items of Air Force issue. We rode for some time and were told to unload the wagon. It was then I discovered the equipment on which we were riding was covering the bodies of eight or nine dead airmen. I didn’t recognize any of the dead, but they must have been from our Group. The two of us lined the bodies up in the garage area and the guards then put us in separate jail cells and gave us ersatz coffee and black bread. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and I was hungry, but just couldn’t eat that hard, sour, black bread. The coffee was almost as bad. However, after a few days that black bread ranked almost at the angel food cake level!
The next day we were taken to Berlin by train and by double-decker bus to the German Airport (probably Tempelhof). The wounded man was kept in the hospital there. I was given first aid and held in the air raid shelter area with the other flyer. The next day we were taken on a 17 hour passenger train trip to Frankfurt-on-the-Main for interrogation. There I was placed in solitary confinement in a small cell with one little, very high, barred window. We were not allowed to talk to anyone except the interrogator. Our cells had a “flag” arrangement to signal the guards that we had to use the toilet. They wouldn’t talk to us and made since no one else was in the toilet area when we were allowed its use. The food was very meager. The interrogator insisted that I was a spy because no one else had reported me as a crew member. They knew more about our base than I did! Even used our “secret and confidential” code number, 153, to identify the base. They knew most of the permanent personnel as well as all the Squadron Flight Leaders. Alter 10 days and several rounds with the interrogator they decided I didn’t know much and shipped me out with about 200 other P.O.W.s being transferred to Luft I Camp at Barth.
We were loaded into boxcars and I thought we “had it made” with about 50 men in each car, but then the guards took over the center third of the car. We were so crowded that we had to take turns lying down. The trip was to take five days but on the fifth day we reached Berlin in time for the nightly air raid. The British did a fine job of bombing Berlin every night for the five nights we were there. When the air raid sirens sounded the guards would head for the shelter leaving us locked in the cars. It is very scary when bombs are exploding all around and you know you are in one of the target areas. We could see the parachute flares used by the Royal Air Force to mark targets for the following planes to drop their bombs. The marshalling yards suffered a great deal of damage but none of our boxcars were hit. Some of the prisoners developed fever. We had exhausted the food supply by the time we reached Berlin, so the authorities finally decided to forget Barth and take us to Stalag III A at Luckenwalde about 30 miles to the south. A day or two after arriving there we watched the 8th AF hit Berlin. We were thankful to be out of Berlin but envious of those crews that would be back in England in a few hours.
A few hungry, cold, bed bug bitten months later we were liberated by the Russians but still confined to the camp. The Russians talked about taking us back through Russia to Odessa. The Germans strafed us a few times, so when we heard the Americans and Russians had linked up at the Elbe River, only fifty miles away, five of us decided to try to walk there. It took three days and was rather difficult but we all made it to the American Troops. Two months later I still had big blisters on my feet.
A few weeks later we were on a Victory ship, the Marine Dragon, headed for Boston and home. As mess officer on the trip back I managed to put on lots of weight. It’s a wonder we didn’t run out of food!
Melvin Johnson was a member of the Emory Hanneke crew aboard B-17G 43-38665 FC * Z, otherwise known as “Queen of the Skies“. According to Luftgaukommando Report KU 3575 and MACR 11723 (which of course includes translations of KU 3575), the bomber crashed 40 kilometers southwest or west of Neuruppin, at Bartschendorf. As indicated in Johnson’s account, he was the crew’s sole survivor.
This set of Oogle maps show the approximate crash location of Queen of the Skies, based on Luftgaukommando Report KU 3570.
First, a “close-up” centered on Bartschendorf…
…and the crash site, relative to Friesack, Neuruppin, and Berlin.
The picture of Queen of the Skies is American Air Museum in Britain photo UPL 30452, contributed by Lucy May.
This image of the Hanneke crew is via Lenny Andrews, nephew of flight engineer Leonard E. Andrews. As captioned, “Their Boeing B-17G Fortress went down approx 40km WestSouthWest of Neuruppin [at “Bartschendorf”], Germany. All crew (except Pilot Hanneke & Navigator Johnson), were reported dead at crash site by German Command at Neuruppin Air Base. Hanneke’s body was not recovered (at the time), and Melvin Johnson was captured as a POW. The bodies were buried in Common grave #1 of the Municipal Cemetery Bartschendorf, District of Ruppin southeast corner on 15 Jan 1945.” The photo caption also includes the men’s names, which are listed below. The names of their towns and cities of residence are via the next-of-kin roster in the Missing Air Crew Report.
Navigator – Johnson, Melvin L., 2 Lt., 0-2069029 Lagrange, In.
From Luftgaukommando Report KU 3575, this “Angabe über Gefangennahne von feindlichen Luftwaffenangehörigen” (“Information on the capture of enemy air force members”) form records Lt. Johnson’s capture by local gendarmes at the scene of his bomber’s crash, 35 kilometers west-southwest of Neuruppin. Interestingly, German investigators incorrectly identified Johnson’s bomber as 43-38337 “BI * N” / “Cloud Hopper” of the 568th Bomb Squadron, rather than the correct 43-38665 “FC * Z” / “Queen of the Skies” of the 571st.
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Volume II
“Group Mission #243 – Derben Germany”
Rafael H. Galceran, Pilot, 569th Bomb Squadron
“…if this had been a milk run we sure as hell did not want to be on a rough one.”
IT was 25 December 1944, a cold wet afternoon when the British Railway train pulled into Ipswich Station to off-load its cargo of combat crews who were assigned to nearby groups of the 3rd Air Division by the replacement depot at Stone, England. A number of 2 1/2-ton G.I. trucks, canvas-topped and camouflage-painted, were lined up awaiting their passengers. A driver from the 390th Bomb Group called my name and crew number informing us that he would transport us to our new unit, the 569th Bomb Squadron. We loaded our gear, B-4 bags and baggage, in the back. My crew climbed in for the journey to Station 153 – Framlingham. It was raining lightly when we arrived and once again off-loaded our possessions in the front area near the Squadron orderly room and headquarters. We dutifully signed in on the unit roster. The C.Q. gave us our quarters assignment and directed us to the supply building where we would draw our bedding and a ration of coal. Since it was Christmas day, we thought that it was the reason that the area seemed deserted. However, we soon learned the 569th was participating that day on the mission to Morscheid Bridge, Germany, in an effort to slow the German forces in the Battle of the Bulge.
On the following morning the 390th had a stand-down so at 0800 hours my crew lined up to meet our new Squadron Commander, Lt. Colonel Joe P. Walters. A snappy salute, “Reporting as ordered sir!!”
The formalities over, we were placed at ease and our new leader then gave us a brief history of the unit and a lecture on what was to be expected of us. We learned that training never stopped, and that we would go through a short course of training in ground school and flight checks to demonstrate our ability to takeoff, fly formation, navigate a timed course, find the airfield, and land safely. This all had to be accomplished in-between the Squadron’s participation in almost daily bombing missions. On the next Squadron stand-down we had our check ride leading to certification as being combat ready on 10 January 1945. However, we still had to wait a few days for our first mission assignment. Lt. Colonel Walters explained this short delay as his desire for us to start with a “milk run” for our combat baptism. Thus it was that fate determined our first mission would be what was later described as one of the 390th’s greatest air battles.
At 0300 hours on 14 January 1945 the front door of our Nissen hut opened to allow a cold blast of air and the wake-up artist from the orderly room to rouse our crew. I was already seated on the edge of my bunk with my feet on the cold floor when he reached me in the front corner alcove. My eagerness of the days anticipated experience had made sleep virtually impossible. We dressed and, following the morning ablutions in a nearby building, we walked the few hundred feet to the combat mess hall. We were to discover that combat crews were served fresh eggs, any way you liked them, and real ham or bacon, potatoes, toast and coffee. This was a far cry from the powdered eggs and spam that was the fare on non-combat days and to the remainder of the personnel. (I would soon locate a private source of fresh eggs for those days that I was not scheduled to fly.) We then returned to the barracks to get into our flying clothing before hopping aboard a vehicle for the ride to the Group briefing room on the flight line. The briefing began with remarks by Col. Moller, our Group Commander. He informed us that even though Higher Headquarters considered this a low priority target, it was, none the less important in the overall strategy of the war to continue the interruption of any semblance of a steady flow of petroleum products to the German military machine. Derben was a synthetic oil refinery with many underground storage tanks. Again we mounted waiting vehicles of every description that delivered us to a hardstand where we found our assigned aircraft fully loaded and ready for pre-flight. Twelve blades were pulled through and then we climbed in to watch the tower for the green-green Very pistol flares to light up the sky. On this mission I would have 2nd Lt. Benny Meyers (later killed-in-action on another mission) as my co-pilot for his experience, and Bob Barritt would fly as the co-pilot with his crew. The signal to start engines soon came. The steady hum of 36 B-17s filled the early morning air. I often wondered what went through the minds of all of the nearby farm people whose buildings we would literally fly between on our taxi and take-off rolls. The noise must have been deafening. As our turn came, we taxied into the line of slow zig-zagging aircraft headed for the main runway. At the precise brief moment the Group Leader began his roll and one by one, at fifteen-second intervals, each of us roared down the runway lifting off and circling in a pattern to cut off the aircraft upon whose wing we would fly. We were in the number five spot, flying the right wing of the slot lead, and directly under the Squadron leader’s right wingman. The 569th was flying “B” Squadron, placing our 12 aircraft flight to the right, slightly higher and ever-so-slightly behind the Group Leader or “A” flight. “C” flight, the 568th, was slightly below the leader and the same distance behind as we were. All 36 aircraft of the 390th sported the tail insignia of a black “J” in a white square. We then joined the square “D” 100th and the square “B” 95th Bomb Groups thus forming the 13th Combat Wing of the 3rd Air Division of the 8th Air Force. This mission would have a total of 841 bombers in the battle fleet. I have been told that when the 8th Air Force put up a maximum effort this would amount to 1250 to 1300 bombers. When all were in battle line the bomber column covered a distance of 75 miles from lead aircraft to “tail-end charlie” and stretched 25 miles in width. Awesome, simply awesome.
The flight had been routine as briefed. We flew across the channel to Holland. We then turned right over occupied territory and headed generally towards Berlin. It was still a piece of cake, a “milk run”. Approximately 15 minutes short of the IP, the point we would turn onto the bombing run, the alarm came, “Bandits at 9 o’clock”. This was a group of about 75 Folke Wolff 190s and they engaged our friendly fighter escort who immediately dropped their tip tanks to engage in a great aerial dogfight. The enemy soon broke off and our fighters turned for home because without the extra gas, jettisoned in the tip tanks to improve their maneuverability, they could not stay with us until our next fighter escort arrived. Our fears turned to reality when we saw the second enemy wave attack our “C” Squadron whose leader had lost his turbo supercharger. They were now about 2000 feet below and to the rear of flights “A” and “B”. The eight or nine aircraft still in their formation were all quickly shot down. We watched helplessly as each left the sky and counted parachutes as best we could. “B” Flight was attacked by about 40 Me 109’s, coming in from the 4 o’clock position. We were now on the bomb run flying straight and level, no evasive action, so as not to interfere with the bombardier’s accuracy. I looked out the co-pilot’s window to see the silhouette of an Me 109 and could see what appeared to be a flashing light in the nose spinner. This meant only one thing, we were his target and we were seeing the muzzle flashes of each round of 20 mm cannon exiting the barrel of his gun. Those projectiles were headed straight for our ship. “God, they were attempting to shoot me down too.” The sequence of the ammo was: tracer-armor piercing, incendiary, then explosive, and this line fingered its way through the sky towards us. Then it hit. We could hear the rattle of the shrapnel bouncing around inside the plane like so much hail on the roof, and the chatter of our own 50 caliber machine guns firing in short bursts as he bore in on us. We then smelt the acrid smell of fire, something we dreaded most, coming from the aft section. An Me 109 passed about 150 yards below us where he exploded in a ball of fire. Our Ball Turret Gunner, Joe Lawless, had scored a hit (a confirmed kill). A second Me 109 crossed behind us trailing black smoke. We saw the German pilot bail out. This second kill was credited to our Tail Gunner, Jimmy Stewart. They also shared a “probable” during that terrible ten minutes.
As sudden and furious as it came, and though it seemed at the moment to be an eternity, the Germans abandoned their attack and turned north. They apparently saw a flight of P-51 Mustangs high on our left. Sergeant Vince Johnson, Radio Operator, early during the battle had called on the intercom to tell me that there were wounded in the rear, in the waist compartment. When the unmistakable lurch came from the release of our bomb load, I sent our Bombardier, Frank Zier, to the rear to assist and report concerning the damage and wounded. He soon returned with the news that all in the radio and aft section was under control. The following article by our gallant Radio Operator, Vince Johnson, provides his recollections of what was going on back in the radio room and waist section while we were on the bomb run.
We would learn later that an armor piercing shell had ricocheted off Sergeant Phillipson’s gun barrel nearly severing his right arm. The force knocked him to the floor of the waist section where Vince found him and re-connected his oxygen line. The same shell had cut the center support for the ball turret completely through requiring the Ball Turret Gunner, Joe Lawless, to evacuate that bubble. An incendiary had started the radio on fire, and an explosive had gone off in back and below Vince knocking him off his seat. He still, to this day, has pieces of shrapnel in his body. A parachute was popped to provide cover for Sgt. Phillipson after Lt. Zier had given him two vials of morphine for his pain. We did not know Sgt. Johnson was wounded until we were nearly home.
After we became stabilized in good steady formation, and the danger of attack remote, I turned the controls over to the Copilot and went aft to follow up on Lt. Zier’s report. I was satisfied that all had been done that could be until we were on the ground. It wasn’t until much later, in the barracks after de-briefing, that we discovered that Lt. Zier had received a sliver of shrapnel in a most unglamorous location of the derriere while he was seated over his Norden bomb-sight on the bomb run. His bloody shorts told the tale. We whisked him to the Dispensary for its removal while we laughed how he would tell his grandchildren where he was wounded.
The long flight home was eased somewhat by the fact that we had fighter escort, saw no flak nor enemy fighters. Upon our arrival near home base we were allowed to peel off from the formation for a straight-in approach. We fired our Very pistol red-red flares to indicate wounded aboard. This alerted the tower and ambulances. The propellers were still windmilling as the medics climbed in through the waist door to attach plasma bottles to Phil and Vince. This was the first we knew of the extent of injury suffered by our Radio Operator, a real gutsy guy. The stretchers were loaded into the ambulances and as they rolled off towards a nearby field hospital the remainder of the crew prayed not only for them but for ourselves as well, because if this had been a milk run we sure as hell did not want to be on a rough one.
______________________________
“Group Mission #243 — Derben Germany”
Vincent K. Johnson, Radio Operator, 569th Bomb Squadron
“It wasn’t long before they detected I had been wounded and only the “Good Lord” knows the element of pain in those ensuing hours.”
I was a youngster of nineteen and now about to “lift off in the Wild Blue Yonder” with the “family,” known as the crew, that I had trained with to qualify for this difficult task. The assembly of all the crews and the dispatching of the individual crafts were enough to make this youngster agog of the “might” of this Air Force that he was a part of. What a scene to see all those crafts taking off and then assembling in their respective places within the formation before then pointing toward the given target.
Being the Radio Operator I had certain responsibilities, even in the face of all this mass movement, to convey communications to the pilot, navigator, or whatever communications dealt with our little “family”. Now that this was the “real” thing the communications were primarily directed to the pilot or pilot to radio operator if he needed information. I mention these responsibilities because it seemed like the things that happened within the plane were the priority items. Happenings outside the plane were another world.
Before reaching the target on 14 January 1945, radio silence was declared and, therefore, I, at my radio seat, was gazing into “that other world” on the outside of the plane. We were still approaching the target when little-by-little the “flak” and the enemy fighters became more prominent in that outside world. Even then in one’s young mind he doesn’t comprehend the dangers on the outside, as long as “our family” was OK inside the plane.
Suddenly, and one cannot describe it in terms of time, that outside world was inside our plane, “our home”. While at my radio chair and turned toward the table, my body just exploded, stunned, and in pain. I found myself on my hands and knees in the radio room, my oxygen mask off and the radio chair still facing the table. The mission was at about 29,000 feet so the first instinct was to replenish my system with oxygen. Then I realized we had another member of our family and He was the Man way upstairs. I say this because something told me to check visibly before calling in, and sure enough in the waist was Phil, one of “the family”, bloody and laying on his back with no oxygen. After some shifting and adjusting I was able to get him oxygenized so that he was back in the real world. We got back to the radio room and I then originated a call to the pilot that we had a wounded person aboard. Why I wasn’t able to admit that I had also been hit must have been fear that maybe I didn’t do the job and I would lose my place in “the family”. It wasn’t long before they detected I had been wounded and only the “Good Lord” knows the element of pain in those ensuing hours. Certainly the crew was aware of it and majestically tried everything to comfort Phil and I on the flight home.
During one year and two days, and many, many operations, in the hospital, I frequently told hospital personnel and other patients about our “little family”. Certainly it was a structure and an adventure in one’s life. Of those that served in World War II, the ones who had the privilege of being part of the crew of a mighty B-17 had to be the lucky guys. I always felt close to those who were part of our little unit and I think we were all so very proud to say “our plane”.
Based on the 390th Memorial Museum database, the Galceran crew flew aboard B-17G 43-38663, CC * M / “The Great McGinty” on this mission. According to B-17 Flying Fortress.de, the aircraft survived the war and was returned to the United States on June 30, 1945. It was sold for scrap metal, and presumably reduced to pots and pans, aluminum siding, etc., on December 8 of that year.
This image of the Galceran crew is via the 390th Memorial Museum. Crewmens’ names are listed below the photo.
Standing, left to right
Flight Engineer – Kidwell, Gordon W. Radio Operator – Johnson, Vincent K. (3/15/25-11/15/95) Gunner (Waist) – Phillipson, Emmett D. Gunner (Ball Turret) – Lawless, Joseph P. Gunner (Waist) – Kunz, M. Gunner (Tail) – Stewart, James H.
References, to Keep You Busy (and Happily Distracted!?)
Books
Astor, Gerald, The Mighty Eighth: The Air War in Europe as Told by the Men Who Fought It, Dell Publishing, New York, N.Y., 1997
Freeman, Roger A., The Mighty Eighth – A History of the U.S. 8th Army Air Force, Doubleday and Company, Inc., New York, N.Y., 1970
Freeman, Roger A., The B-17 Flying Fortress Story – Design – Production – History, Arms & Armour Press, London, England, 1998
Milliken, Albert E. (editor), The Story of the 390th Bombardment Group (H), N.Y., 1947
Richarz, Wilbert H., Perry, Richard H., and Robinson, William J., The 390th Bomb Group Anthology – Volume I, 390th Memorial Museum Foundation Inc., P.O. Box 15087, Tuscon, Az., 1983
Richarz, Wilbert H., Perry, Richard H., and Robinson, William J., The 390th Bomb Group Anthology – Volume II, 390th Memorial Museum Foundation Inc., P.O. Box 15087, Tuscon, Az., 1985
Websites
Wayne’s Journal – A life of a B-25 tail gunner with the 42nd Bombardment Group in the South Pacific – January 14, 1945
Tempest V Performance – Combat Reports (Includes four Reports for January 14, 1945)
390th Memorial Museum Foundation – Database (390th Memorial Museum’s Research Portal)
-and-
390th Bomb Group Works Cited
The Story of the 390th Bombardment Group (Paducah: Turner Publishing Company, 1947), 65-66. “390th Bomb Group: History of Aircraft Assigned.” Unpublished manuscript. 390th Memorial Museum. Joseph A. Moller Library. “390th Bomb Group Tower Log: November 22, 1944 – June 27, 1945.” Unpublished manuscript. 390th Memorial Museum. Joseph A. Moller Library. “Mission – No. 243, Target – Derben, Germany, Date – 14 January 1945.” Mission Reports Part I, MISSION_REPORTS_03, file no. 1266-1267. Digital Repositories. 390th Memorial Museum. Joseph A. Moller Library.
It’s time to return to the subject of the earliest posts at this blog: The loss of over 130 soldiers of the 462nd General Transport Company, a British military unit comprised of Jewish soldiers from the Yishuv. This tragic event occurred when the transport ship S.S. Erinpura was sunk by Luftwaffe aircraft of Kampfgeschwader 26 (KG 26) north of the Libyan coast, on May 1, 1943. This event and its aftermath were covered in these nine posts, which include lists of the Jewish and African soldiers lost that day:
“This” new post – the one you’re viewing right now! – presents information about the 462nd General Transport Company from a very different angle: The focus is less on individuals than it is information. That is, four documents pertaining to the history and service of the 462nd. I recently discovered these items while randomly searching “to and fro” for information about the 462nd in particular, and Jewish soldiers from the Yishuv, in general. In this, I fortuitously (and luckily, too!) chanced upon the Kedem Auctions Judaica and Israeliana Auction House, which features among its abundant holdings memorabilia pertaining to Jewish military service, from the diaspora, the Yishuv, and the re-established nation-state of Israel. Kedem’s website is simple and pleasing to the eye, very well designed, and easy to use, and typically features images of items-for-auction in high resolution, accompanied by pithy descriptions. (This isn’t a plug on Kedem’s behalf – it’s true.)
Anyway. Kedem’s website features four items about the 462nd General Transport Company, three of which have been sold, and one of which is awaiting a purchaser. Kedem’s images of these items (edited a bit in Photoshop) follow below, accompanied by descriptive text from their website. Taken together, they lend a fuller dimension to the history of the 462nd General Transport Company, revealing that despite the disaster of the first of May in 1943, the unit persevered and continued. This, I think, was the best way to honor and remember its fallen soldiers.
A booklet (mimeographed typescript) marking the anniversary of the sinking of SS Erinpura which carried hundreds of soldiers of the 462nd Transport Company of the British Army. Published by the 462nd Transport Company, May 1, 1944. A booklet commemorating the soldiers of the 462nd Transport Company, volunteers of the Jewish Yishuv in the British Army, who perished with the sinking of the SS Erinpura on their way to Malta, before the invasion of the Allies to Sicily. The booklet was printed by the surviving members of the company to mark the anniversary of the sinking of the ship. It contains a list of the members of the company who perished at sea, alongside testimony by one of the survivors, a short tribute by company commander Major Harry Yoffe, and additional texts. Enclosed are three leaves of the newspaper “A Missive to the Male and Female Soldiers” issued by the executive committee of the Histadrut Labor Federation (June 1943 / May 1944), which contain articles about the 462nd Transport Company and the sinking disaster. One of the articles covers a memorial service the company held on the anniversary of the sinking of the Erinpura, noting that “the company published a special booklet in their memory that was distributed among the participants” (presumably, referring to the booklet before us). – Booklet: 13 leaves, in a transparent nylon cover (new), 16.5X22 cm.Good condition. Stains. Worming. Closed and open tears to edges, most of them restored. Enclosed leaves: 25 cm. Numerous stains. Small tears, holes and filing holes. Not in NLI. [National Library of Israel] Provenance: The Rimon Family Collection.
Collection of booklets and journals of Jewish units in the British army. The first half of the 1940s. Approx. 40 booklets and journals (mostly mimeographed typescripts), printed for various Jewish units in the British army, including the Jewish Brigade and transport companies. The journals provide much information about the activity of the units, the battles and the lives of the Jewish soldiers in Europe. Some of them are accompanied by illustrations. Included: • “Basha’ar” (At the Gate), internal booklet no. 3, 1941 – a booklet encouraging students to enlist in the British army. • Journals of No. 5 Water Tank Coy. R.A.S.C;462 General Transport Coy. R.A.S.C; company 553, R.A.O.C; 178 General Transport Coy. R.A.S.C; and other companies. • Issue no. 3 of the journal of the 1st Palestinian Light Anti-Aircraft Battery. Merchavya, 1943. One of the articles in the issue deals with the need to enlist and fight for the Jewish Yishuv in face of the news about the destruction of European Jewry. • Issues 4-5 of “Bama’avak” (In the Struggle), the journal of the Jewish Brigade. Belgium, 1945. • A volume compiling various journals and leaflets; most of them of the Jewish transport companies. • and more. – A total of approx. 40 items (some of them bound together). Size and condition vary. Provenance: The Rimon Family Collection.
The vehicle illustrated on the cover of the booklet is a Bedford QL, a truck “manufactured by Bedford [over 52,000 built] for use by the British Armed Forces in the Second World War.”
This Bedford QLC (fire engine, signals vehicle, or petrol tanker), from The Shopland Collection, was manufactured in 1943 and restored in the 1990s.
Non-traditional haggadah, printed for the use of the Jewish soldiers serving in Transportation Unit 462 of the British Army in Italy during World War II.
Before the meal, under the title “On This Festive Occasion” and before “The Commander’s Blessing”, the following text appears [Hebrew]: “On this night of vigil, when we sit down for the Seder of 1945, in Italy – in a foreign land, and we ourselves are wearing military uniforms, we feel the absence of our friends, seated together with us at this time last year. We are pained by the loss of Jewish communities in Europe, that are no longer, exterminated by a cruel and evil hand. We have some flashes of light: the fighting Jewish brigade, that carries the flag of Israel and is in the right place, and the first arrival of the few survivors and the children we have trained. Our longing is strong, and tonight, our hearts yearn for our home – our country”. –[15] leaves (back cover missing), 16.5 x 20.5 cm. Fair-good condition. Front cover detached and torn on margins. Stains (mostly to cover and leaf margins). The inscription “illustrations by Stiger” and the emblem of the Jewish Transportation Unit, both printed on the inner side of the front cover, are heavily blurred. – Not in the book by Aviram Paz, “The Exodus from Egypt, Then and Now, Collection of Rare Passover Haggadahs from the 1940s, from the Author’s Collection” (Kibbutz Dalia, 2015).
HaHayil, daily newspaper for Jewish soldiers. “Western Europe” [probably Brussels], January to June, 1946. Issue Nos. 519-21, 523, 540, 547-48, 550, 557, 563, 570, 582, 594, 605, 625, 640. Hebrew.
First image… 16 issues of the newspaper “HaHayil.” The newspaper was first published in Italy under the title “LaHayal…” [“To the Soldier, Daily Newsmagazine for Jewish Soldiers in Continental Europe”], but following the surrender of Nazi Germany, the soldiers of the Jewish Brigade were transferred to the Low Countries, the newspaper’s editorial board moved to Brussels, and the paper then began to appear under its new title. The issues printed during the newspaper’s second incarnation, in Brussels, document the defeat of Germany and the lives of Jewish soldiers in postwar Europe, containing a wealth of information regarding Palestine and the Jewish Yishuv there, in addition to dealing with the Holocaust and its survivors, and the Jewish Brigade and it soldiers.
Newspaper issues 34 cm; invitation sheet 29 cm. Condition varies.
Second image… Enclosed: A one-page invitation to a Hanukkah party in December 1942 in Tobruk, Libya, extended to the soldiers of the 5th and 11th RASC (water supply) Companies, and the 462nd, 178th, and 179th RASC (general) Companies.
The units listed in the invitation can be seen just below the title, in the first and second lines of text.
This is the second of two posts concerning Jewish military casualties in the Second World War, specifically on January 14, 1945.
But, some brief words of explanation…
The “first” post, “Soldiers from New York: Jewish Soldiers in The New York Times, in World War Two: Captain Arthur H. Bijur – January 14, 1945 [“New and improved…!” – Part I]”, focuses on Jewish servicemen in the armed forces of the Allies who served in the ground forces of the Allied armed forces, and, as aviators in a variety of military units. By design, that post isn’t complete: It’s absent of information about Jewish aviators in the United States Eighth Air Force who were casualties – two killed in action; five prisoners of war – on that January Tuesday seventy-eight years ago. Due to the sheer abundance of information about the Eighth Air Force and its air war against the Third Reich, their stories appear in this very lengthy post.
Well, all my posts are lengthy.
(!)
______________________________
Sgt. Fred Leiner – .ת.נ.צ.ב.ה. – …Tehé Nafshó Tzrurá Bitzrór Haḥayím … May his soul be bound up in the bond of everlasting life. 1st Air Division, 8th Air Force, 381st Bomb Group, 535th Bomb Squadron
The insignia of the 535th Bomb Squadron…
During a mission to Rodenkirchen (a southern borough of the city of Cologne, Germany), the 381st Bomb Group’s 535th Bomb Squadron endured the loss of a single aircraft: B-17G 42-97313, MS * N, nicknamed “THE COLUMBUS MISS” / Egg Haid and piloted by 2 Lt. Mead K. Robuck. According to Missing Air Crew Report 11763, the aircraft was last sighted flying in the 381st’s formation at 24,800 feet. The group received meager to accurate and continuous following (anti-aircraft) fire, but unlike the 8th Air Force’s 3rd Air Division – about which far more below – didn’t come under attack by Luftwaffe fighters. However, “THE COLUMBUS MISS” was seen to have received a flak hit in its #3 (starboard inboard) engine, and when last seen was reportedly under control. (Flak similarly accounted for the only other 1st Air Division B-17 lost on January 14: Aircraft 43-38911, OR * P, Bull Session, of the 91st Bomb Group’s 323rd Bomb Squadron, during that Group’s mission to Koln. Piloted by 2 Lt. William E. Meyer, the aircraft crashed at Wengerrohr, Germany, with only one survivor of its crew of nine: bombardier 2 Lt. James D. Buescher.)
The crew of “The COLUMBUS MISS” consisted of:
Pilot: Robuck, Mead K., 2 Lt. – Returned Co-Pilot: Scarsdale, James W., 2 Lt. – Returned Navigator: O’Brien, Raymond J., 2 Lt. – Returned Flight Engineer: Sewell, Michael A., T/Sgt. – Returned Radio Operator: Dicero, Joseph, S/Sgt. – Returned Gunner (Ball Turret): Shott, Richard L., S/Sgt. – KIA Gunner (Waist): Lavalle, Robert A.P., S/Sgt. – Returned Gunner (Tail): Leiner, Fred, Sgt. – KIA
Photographed on May 30, 1944, here’s “THE COLUMBUS MISS”, in Army Air Force Photo B-65831AC / A46333.
Filed six days later, on January 20, MACR 11763 reported that, “All men on the aircraft believed to have bailed out after the aircraft had been hit by flak over the battle area. The men bailed out at approximately 50-14 N, 05-46E. On this day, it was possible for the chutes to fall either in German lines or American lines.”
As of January 23, Lt. Robuck and six of his eight crew men – his co-pilot, navigator, bombardier, radio operator, flight engineer and waist gunner – had been accounted for. Based on consolidated statements by Lt. Robuck, navigator 2 Lt. Raymond J. Brien, and togglier S/Sgt. James C. Adkins, the 381st’s S-2 (Intelligence) Officer reported that the entire crew was believed to have bailed out over the battle area, at approximately 50-14 N, 05-64 E, concluding with the ambiguous statement, “On this day, it was possible for the chutes to fall either in German lines of American lines.”
With this, the MACR carries no further information about the two missing sergeants, their “Current Status” (current as of 1/23/45, that is) having been reported as “MIA”. The Report’s likewise absent of next-of-kin and residential address for the missing men. Or anything else, for that matter.
The report suggests that at least one of the missing men – and maybe both? – descended into German lines, which – would suggest that the men were taken prisoner, implying – given that they eventually known to have been killed in action – that they did not survive capture. But, this turns out not to have been the so.
In reality, as suggested in postwar correspondence by Lieutenants Robuck and Brien, and Sergeant Adkins – see below – and solidly confirmed in other documents in Sergeant Shott’s Individual Deceased Personnel File, neither man ever left the bomber, the wreckage of which was found north of Warempage, Belgium, ½ mile north of Les Failles (approximate position 50-08 N, 05-38 E). The IDPF reveals that bodies of both men were found near their crashed B-17.
The probable crash location of “THE COLUMBUS MISS” is denoted by the smallredcircle in the center of this Oogle map. Though not visible here, Bastogne is only a few miles south.
What happened, actually? Both men were seen, uninjured, in the plane’s rear fuselage as other crewmen exited the damaged bomber, Sgt. Shott standing near his just-vacated ball turret, and Sgt. Leiner crawling out of his tail gun position. It seems that the two gunners succumbed to anoxia and never left the “THE COLUMBUS MISS”.
Here’s postwar correspondence from Mead K. Robuck, Raymond J. O’Brien, and James C. Adkins, concerning the two missing crewmen.
First, O’Brien’s letter of November, 1945
27 Walnut Street
Rutherford, N. J.
November 22, 1945
Lt. Col. John T. Burns Officer in Charge Status Review and Determination Section Washington, D. C.
Dear Sir:
Subject: Casualty Information No 4975. The following is in answer to your request of the 14th of November:
A. Type of damage to plane. 1. We received a hit from what we believe to have been a 105 mm. anticraft gun. The shell seems to have gone off slightly in front of the number three engine nacelle. This hit set both wings and the nose on fire and put numerous holes in the forward part of the ship. As far as I have been able to determine, there was no damage to the tail or ball turret. The plane exploded when it hit the ground or was very low. I was able to see the plane most of the way down when I was in my parachute.
B. Personal knowledge. 1. I did not personally see anything of the two men mentioned.
C. Information received from others. 1. Staff Sgt. Robert LaValle, who was flying as waist gunner, told me the following: Before he left the aircraft, Sgt. Shott was out of the ball turret and was on oxygen and had his parachute. Sgt. Liener [sic] was crawling out of the tail compartment and did not have his oxygen mask connected or have his parachute. Sgt. Dicero, radio operator, also said Sgt. Shott was out of the ball turret. The men on the ground had varying ideas as to the number of chutes. The maximum was six and three were some reports of one chute that did not open. The other crews reported up to six chutes, however, seven men were known to have parachuted safely.
D. Location of Incident. 1. We were approximately five miles southeast of Hauffalize. The plane was estimated by ground troops to have crashed in or very close to the British zone of operations.
E. Additional information. 1. I have heard from men in my group that movies were shown of our plane going down in which our ship is recognizable. If these actually exist, they may be of some help.
This is all the knowledge I have on the subject. Any points not clear, I shall be glad to elaborate upon request.
Very truly yours
/s/ R.J. O’Brien, Jr. 1st Lt. ACAUS (Inactive)
__________
Second, Adkins’ letter of December, 1945
EATON MANUFACTURING COMPANY CLEVELAND, OHIO
COPY
December 3, 1945
Edward F. Witsell Major General
Acting The Adjutant General of the Army
RE: AGPC-S 704
Dear Sir:
In your letter of November 28th, you asked me to give you certain information on Staff Sergeant Richard L. Shott, 15401567 and Sergeant Fred Leiner, 11058059.
1. Type of damage to the plane: The #3 engine was blown out by flak, oxygen and communications entirely ruined, plane was thrown out of control and vibrated furiously, both wings were aflame.
2. Personal knowledge: I was sitting in the nose compartment of our B 17 G. The last thing I remember was the Ball Turret gunner saying that he saw flak at 12 o’clock low. The crew didn’t have flak suits on because we were in friendly territory. All of a sudden I felt my oxygen mask tighten. The first thing I did was reach for my parachute as the plane was thrown out of control. I turned around and saw the Navigator crawling towards the escape door. At this time the copilot baled out, after the co-pilot, the Navigator and then I baled out. I couldn’t move my head as I was caught in my parachute. I saw two chutes below me and the plane in flames.
3. Hearsay information: The radioman was the first to realize the extent of the damage. He noticed by glancing out the side window the plane was in flames and he ran through the radio room and waist to the escape door. He had his parachute on. As he ran through the waist he noticed the Ball Turret was up and the gunner was reaching for his parachute. He noticed too, the tail gunner was crawling from his compartment to the waist. The tail gunner didn’t have his parachute in his compartment and had to crawl to the waist to get it.
At this time, the radioman passed out from lack of oxygen. The waist gunner who already had his chute on said he knows the ball gunner had his chute on too. He didn’t know about the tail gunner’s condition. The waist gunner pushed the radioman out of the plane and fell out after him. They do not know if the ball gunner and tail gunner still had enough oxygen to get out of the plane or not, but we are certain that the pilot was in the plane much longer than this and he did not pass out from lack of oxygen. The crew believes the pilot was the last man to leave the ship. Reports from paratroopers who picked me up were that they saw eight parachutes come down. I wouldn’t call this correct because every person I talked to seemed to have a different number as to the chutes that came down.
I was watching the instruments so I know the altitude of the plane was 27,000 feet, air speed was 160 mph. We baled out over Bertogne, Belgium, which was liberated an hour before the time we baled out, so that some of the crew fell on the enemy’s side and some on our side.
I believe that definite information can be received from our waist gunner, Robert Lavalle, who was on the crew at the time of the accident. This seems to be all I can remember and hope that it is of some help.
Respectfully yours,
James C. Adkins 19311 Arrowhead Cleveland, Ohio
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Third, Adkins’ letter of April, 1946
SPQYG 293 86865 (neuville-en-Condroz) Belgium
April 5, 1946
The Quartermaster General Memorial Division Washington 25, D. C.
Dear Sir:
In reply to your letter of April 1st, I am enclosing a letter I had written on December 3, 1945 to the Acting Adjutant General of the Army.
Have you definitely identified the plane that crashed in the vicinity of Les Tailles, Belgium, as the one that belonged to our crew. I landed approximately one mile from the spot you mentioned and know nothing about the landing of Sgt. Fred Leiner, 11058059, and Richard L. Shott, S/Sgt., 15401567. I don’t even know if they were killed in the plane crash, or if they were taken prisoners. For all I know they may even be alive somewhere in Europe.
Have you been able to identify these two as the two men that died in the crash, or have you found two men and can’t identify them? Have you definite evidence that Fred Leiner and Richard Shott are dead or is their case still opened as being missing. I would appreciate any definite information you can give me, as I would like to know just what did happen to these two.
If there is anything more I can do please let me know.
Respectfully yours,
James C. Adkins 19311 Arrowhead Cleveland 19, Ohio
JCA:jh
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Finally, Robuck’s letter later that same month.
26 April 1946
THE QUARTERMASTER GENERAL Washington 25, D. C.
Dear Sir:
This letter is in reply to your letter dated 8 April 1946 and in reference to SPQYG 293 86865 Neuville-en-Condroz, Belgium.
I am unable to furnish many facts and circumstances relative to the death and burial of the following:
Leiner, Fred, Sgt., 11058059 Shott, Richard L., S/Sgt., 15401567
I know of no identification marks or features other than those of height, weight, and color, which you will have in your records.
I was pilot of the B-17G in which the two above named men were also flying. S/Sgt. Richard L. Shott was the ball turret gunner and Sgt. Fred Leiner was the tail gunner. We had just leveled off at 25,000 feet on a course of about 130 degrees when we were hit with a burst of flak in or near the number three engine. This nacelle burst into flames immediately, spreading later to the wing. The position of the plane was near Houffalize, Belgium when hit. The plane started to circle to the right. Those men bailing out first landed near Bastogne. Sgt. Sewell, the engineer, and myself stayed in the plane longer and in doing so landed along the northern edge of the German “Bulge.” I landed about one quarter of a mile southwest of Samree, Belgium.
The plane was on auto-pilot and continued to circle slightly. Men on the ground with whom I talked, said it seemed to be under control until it crashed into the ground. The bomb load of six 1000 pound RDX bombs was still in the plane.
Robert A. Lavelle, the waist gunner, was the last person to see these two men. Sergeants Leiner and Shott were both standing in the waist section as he left the plane. As far as I know it is unknown whether they bailed out or remained in the plane.
It is still unknown to me whether the plane was found and identified after it crashed. If the plane was found and identified, I would greatly appreciate any information regarding its position and findings that you could release.
These facts are given as I can best remember them. I will be glad to furnish any additional information that you may desire. I sincerely hope that this may help in some way to lead to other information.
Sincerely yours, Mead K. Robuck
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Listed on page 169 of American Jews in World War II, and page 442 of Gerald Astor’s The Mighty Eighth, Sgt. Fred Leiner (11058059), born in Brooklyn on September 8, 1924, was the son of Benjamin (7/12/96-9/84) and Lena (Lea) (Herscher) (12/12/97-1/7/63) Leiner, of 37 Columbia Street, in Wooster, Massachusetts. He’s buried at Plot A, Row 8, Grave 24, of the Netherlands American Cemetery, in Margraten, Netherlands. His military awards of the Air Medal and Purple Heart suggest that he completed between five and ten combat missions.
From Ancestry.com, this portrait of Fred Leiner is his graduation portrait from the 1942 Wooster Classical High School Yearbook.
Perhaps inevitably, given the tactics and technology of aerial combat of the Second World War, let alone the global conflict’s duration – there were numerous occasions during the war when Allied air forces experienced strikingly if not staggeringly high combat losses. Among the most well known occasions, at least in terms of popular knowledge (and these are only three examples of – alas – very many) are the Ploesti Mission of August 1, 1943, the Schweinfurt-Regensburg mission of August 17, 1943, and the Royal Air Force’s mission to Nuremburg on the evening of March 30-31, 1944. However, in terms of the United States Army Air Force, there were frequent instances when relatively smaller numbers of aircraft were lost, but … which still eventuated in the annihilation of entire combat squadrons or even the majority of aircraft within a single Combat Group. Examples include the 455th Bomb Group’s mission to the Mosobierbaum Oil Refinery in Austria on June 26, 1944, the 483rd Bomb Group’s mission to Memmingen, Germany, on July 18, 1944; the 2nd Bomb Group’s mission to the Privosier Oil Refinery, at Moravska Ostrava, Czechoslovakia, on August 29, 1944, and the 491st Bomb Group’s mission to Misburg, Germany, on November 26, 1944.
A similar event occurred on January 14, 1945, when the 8th Air Force lost sixteen B-17s among four different 3rd Air Division bombardment Groups during a strike against German petroleum targets. Among the sixteen planes were nine aircraft of the 390th Bomb Group, including all seven from the Group’s 568th Bomb Squadron. In terms of events and tactics, the Group’s debacle on this January Tuesday shares strong similarities with the loss of sixteen B-24s during the above-mentioned Misburg mission. The central parallels are the “lost” squadron having first become spatially separated from other squadrons in its Group, and made vulnerable by this separation from the collective firepower of its brother squadrons, drawing attacks by Luftwaffe fighter aircraft. Or, as described by Roger Freeman in The Mighty Eighth:
On January 14th a force of over 600 heavies engaged in the Eighth’s first large scale strategic mission since the Ardennes emergency. With a bright clear day promised the operational planners turned to their first priority, oil, sending part of the 2nd and all the 3rd Division to refineries and storage sites in Northwest Germany. A strong force of Mustangs cossetted the bombers, anticipating that the combination of a fine day and an oil target would bring the Luftwaffe to battle. The Mustangs, however, managed to deflect the majority of enemy fighters before they reached the bombers.
North-west of Berlin the escort for the head of the 3rd Division column surprised a whole Geschwader preparing for a “company front” assault. About a score of FW-190s, with a few Me-262s and Me-109s covering them, managed to get to the 95th Group, making single head-on passes which brought them no successes. Fortress gunners claimed five of the enemy and those of the 100th Group claimed eight in a similar fruitless attack by the same, or a similar, enemy force a little later. The third group of the Fortress wing, the 390th, was not so fortunate. Its low squadron, comprised of only eight aircraft, was lagging due to supercharger trouble in their leading aircraft. When the Luftwaffe appeared on the scene, this unit was flying some 2000 ft below and behind the rest of the group, presenting the obvious choice of target. The German fighters showed signs of inexperience, for they attacked mostly in pairs from the rear, without any apparent coordination and often opening fire at maximum range; it took them the best part of half an hour to dispatch the eight B-17s and one other from the main formation. The 390th gunners claimed a score and were allowed 14. For the Group it was their unluckiest day, the highest losses on a single mission and, incidentally, the last sustained assault by a Luftwaffe formation on a single Eighty AF heavy bomber unit.
The mission is described in more detail at the 390th Memorial Museum Foundation: “January 14, 2022 – On This Day in History – Derben, Germany: Jan. 14, 1945 – Mission 243”. (For sources of information of this section, see “390th Bomb Group Works Cited” in References, at bottom of post.)
370 B-17s & 331 P-51s from the Third Bombardment Division set out from England with orders to attack oil facilities in the cities of Derben & Magdeburg in eastern Germany.
While the underground oil storage facilities in Derben were considered low priority targets, General Carl A. Spaatz, commander of U.S. Strategic Air Forces in Europe, insisted that these targets of seemingly little value needed to be hit, saying, “The output of oil products has been reduced to the point where German reserves are now critical. Your task is to defeat his desperate attempts to rebuild the industry and renew his reserves. Your success will limit Germany’s offensive strength on every front, both on the ground and in the air, and contribute immensely to ultimate victory.”
The 390th Bomb Group initially assigned 37 aircraft to participate in the attack on Derben. The planes were split into 3 combat squadrons under the command of Major Robert W. McHenry, Captain Jerome J. Howe, & Lieutenant John W. Bone, Jr. respectively.
The aircrews expected it to be a routine mission. The facilities in Derben were not particularly important and thus were not likely to be heavily defended. The men had not seen a single German fighter for months.
The first planes started taking off from Framlingham at 7:40 AM, with the last one leaving the runway at 8:29 AM. Problems started appearing almost immediately when 3 failed to take off due to mechanical issues.
One by one, 7 other planes were forced to turn around and head back to England after they started experiencing mechanical issues. 3 were able to reach enemy territory before they were forced to abort the mission. They dropped their bombs on any targets of opportunity that lay within their flight path as they made their way back to England.
The crews of those 10 planes ended up being the lucky ones.
Five minutes before the remaining 27 planes reached the target area, they were swarmed by around a hundred German FW 190s and Me 109s. Despite having a fighter escort, the thirty-minute firefight that ensued inflicted a heavy toll on the bombers – all 8 [actually, 7] planes from “C” squadron [568th], plus 1 [actually, 2] from “B” squadron [571st], were shot down. No one could recall the particulars surrounding their loss – they were likely too occupied with staying alive themselves.
Not since 1943, when the Luftwaffe was at the peak of its power, had the 390th Bomb Group suffered such heavy casualties. And even then, their losses had never been this high. It was the bloodiest mission the 390th Bomb Group had ever flown, eclipsing even the notorious Münster raid on October 10, 1943.
Compared to the vicious firefight that had transpired, the actual bombing run was completely uneventful. Though smoke plumes caused by the bombing runs of preceding Bomb Groups made it difficult for the 390th’s surviving planes to assess the results of their own attack, they also did not have to wade through a field of flak fire while doing so.
During the return to England, one of the surviving planes, the “Songoon” 43-37565 [FC*N, 571st Bomb Squadron], was forced to divert to RAF Woodbridge because the damage it had sustained during the fighter attack had proven too severe for it to make it back to Framlingham. It was only after the ground crew at Woodbridge worked through the night to make the “Songoon” airworthy again that the plane finally completed its journey.
The planes that were still able to make it back touched down between 3:02 and 3:42 PM. The crew of “The Great McGinty”43-38663 [CC*M, 569th Bomb Squadron] fired red flares into the air to signal that there were wounded men aboard. The crew of aircraft 44-6812 [CC*G, 569th Bomb Squadron] came out carrying the corpse of their top turret gunner.
13 planes had been damaged, with 2 reporting that their gunners had accidentally shot their own aircraft in their desperate attempts to ward off their attackers.
The 8th Air Force initially dispatched 1,771 planes into Germany that day. 38 of them never returned. Subsequent casualty reports listed 188 men as dead, wounded, or missing. It was a horrifying reminder that while Hitler’s Third Reich was on its last legs, the war was still not over.
Jagdgeschwader 7 – 1 victory Jagdgeschwader 77 – 1 victory Jagdgeschwader 300 – 11 victories (7 victory claims were by pilots of the 8th Staffel) Jagdgeschwader 301 – 2 victories
Each Luftwaffe aerial victory against a B-17 was claimed by a single pilot, thus, no enemy pilot claimed multiple victories over B-17s.
In turn, a review of MACRs for all B-17s lost this day reveals that there were in actuality eleven B-17s lost to enemy aircraft, comprising all nine 390th Bomb Group losses, and, two aircraft from the 838th Bomb Squadron of the 487th Bomb Group. Five B-17s were lost to anti-aircraft fire, comprising two planes from the 34th Bomb Group, one each from the 91st and 381st Bomb Groups [including 42-97313, mentioned above], and, one plane from the 493rd. A mid-air collision was responsible for the two other losses: A pair of B-17s from the 487th Bomb Group’s 838th Bomb Squadron.
This Oogle map shows the location of Derben relative to Berlin. A formerly independent municipality, in September 2001 it merged with the six municipalities of Bergzow, Ferchland, Güsen, Hohenseeden, Parey and Zerben to form the larger municipality of Elbe-Parey, which in 2021 had a population of about 6350.
Oogling in more closely reveals Derben’s street layout. As is more evident in the images below, the target of the 8th Air Force’s January 14 mission – underground petroleum storage tanks – was not located in the town itself, but instead in the undeveloped (and still so today) wooded area adjacent to the eastern edge of the municipality…
…which is revealed below, in an air photo at the same scale as the above map. Currently, the area – designated the Crosstreke Ferchland – is a location for motocross racing, evident by the numerous trails (designated in gray) through the area.
Likely photographed by an automatic bomb-strike camera, Army Air Force Photo 55871AC / A21154 shows the oil storage tank area near Derben at the beginning or in the midst of the 8th Air Force’s attack. This and the subsequent photo have been rotated, via Photoshop, such that they conform to geographic north, as in the maps above.
Also – presumably – photographed from the automatic camera of a higher aircraft, this Army Air Force photo (56022AC / A21155) shows a 390th Bomb Group B-17G – notice the square-J on the plane’s starboard wing? – flying north-northwest over the Elbe River. Due to the dispersal of smoke and debris from bomb explosions – obscuring a wider area than in the image above – this photo was probably taken subsequent to picture 55871AC. While the municipality of Derben appears to be undamaged, it looks (?) as if some bombs have fallen onto the uninhabited land to the west of the municipality, which would account for the billowing cloud of smoke rising into the sky from that location.
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T/Sgt. Moe Hut – .ת.נ.צ.ב.ה. – …Tehé Nafshó Tzrurá Bitzrór Haḥayím … May his soul be bound up in the bond of everlasting life. 3rd Air Division, 8th Air Force, 34th Bomb Group, 7th Bomb Squadron
This image of the 7th Bomb Squadron’s insignia is via ebay seller ez.collect.
The 34th Bomb Group lost two 7th Bomb Squadron B-17s during its mission to oil storage facilities at Derben (though both MACRs list the target as “Brandenberg”), both to flak. Aircraft 43-38419, R2 * E, Miss Betsy, piloted by 2 Lt. Jacob T. Raver, crashed at Eggenstadt, Germany after a direct hit blew off most of its starboard wing, with only two crewmen – S/Sgts. Erwin W. Hanken (ball turret gunner) and Clayton Ervin (nose gunner) – surviving.
B-17G 44-8263, R2 * Y, Ol Buddy (assigned to the 7th Bomb Squadron on August 30, 1944) piloted by 1 Lt. Leslie C. Carter, experienced a nearly identical fate. According to MACR 11565, a flak burst in the plane’s right wing tore off the outer wing panel adjacent to the outboard engine nacelle, leaving only about a foot and a half of aileron. The plane rose slightly and veered into a nearly vertical bank to the right, and then went into a right spiral, which ultimately developed into a steep right spin. Luftgaukommando Report KU 3582 relates that the bomber, shot down by 2./Mar. Flak 224, crashed inland from the western coast of the state of Schleswig-Holstein, 3 kilometers southeast of Hastedt, along the road to Eggstedt.
This Oogle map shows the probable crash location of Ol’ Buddy.
Only one survivor emerged from the nine crewmen aboard the bomber: He was S/Sgt. Cleveland J. Romero, Jr., the tail gunner, who parachuted from an altitude of 25,000 feet over the German coast, near the Frisian Islands. (See also…)
S/Sgt. Romero’s responses to Casualty Questionnaires in MACR 11565 were generally and inevitably similar from crewman to crewman. For example, in writing of ball turret gunner S/Sgt. Robert C. Belh, he stated, “All I know is that he didn’t have time to get out of the ball turret because the ship went down fast and in a tight spin. And that is one of the hardest spots on a ship to get out of in an emergency. All of my crew had plenty of confidence in the ship and pilot and would have waited until the last minute to bail out which may have been one reason why they didn’t get out in time.” (Sgt. Belh is buried in a collective grave with Lieutenants Carter, Koch (co-pilot), and Russell (navigator) at Zachary Taylor National Cemetery.)
Within the crew of Ol Buddy was T/Sgt. Moe Hut (12145645), the plane’s flight engineer. Writing of him, S/Sgt. Romero stated, “He was the engineer and I know he wouldn’t bail out if there would have been someone left in the ship. He went down with the ship as the others did. I’m sure he didn’t have time to get his parachute on because the ship went down very fast and in a tight spin.”
Born in the Bronx on February 4, 1923, Moe Hut’s wife was Ruth S. Hut, of 1659 Dahill Road in Brooklyn, and his parents Max (1890-7/6/50) and Gussie (1890-1978), of 8678 Bay Parkway, in Brooklyn, N.Y. Though his name appears on page 349 of American Jews in World War II, which notes that he only received the Purple Heart – suggesting that he completed less than five combat missions – it never appeared in any Casualty List for the New York metropolitan area. He was buried at Long Island National Cemetery (Section H, Grave 11517) in Farmingdale, New York, on June 6, 1950, but no obituary ever appeared in his name.
Sgt. Hut’s sixty-year-old father passed away exactly one month later, and is buried at Washington Cemetery in Brooklyn. Gussie lived until the age of eighty-eight, and is buried alongside her husband.
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Moving to the 390th Bomb Group – the Group which suffered the most 8th Air Force losses this day – a summary of information about the Group’s B-17 losses follows. Data appears in the following format:
1) Aircraft serial number, aircraft squadron code letters, aircraft nickname, pilot’s name, fate of crew 2) Crash location 3) Missing Air Crew Report number, and, Luftgaukommando Report number
568th Bomb Squadron
Unlike most pictures of unit insignia featured at this blog, this image of the insignia of the 568th Bomb Squadron didn’t come from the Internet. Instead, this emblem was scanned from Albert E. Milliken’s 1947 book The Story of the 390th Bombardment Group (H).
42-31744, BI * A, Little Butch II, 1 Lt. Walter R. Wiegand, 9 crew members – 5 survivors 37 kilometers south of Neuruppin // 2 kilometers northwest of Goerne / 6 kilometers west of Friesack 11720, KU 3572 42-102677, BI * R / Mississippi Mission, 1 Lt. Gerald W. Johnston, 10 crew members – 5 survivors 3 kilometers east of “Garlitz” or “Garnitz” / 18 kilometers north of Brandenburg 11725, KU 3569
42-102956, BI * K / Doc’s Flying Circus, 1 Lt. Paul Goodrich, 9 crew members – 7 survivors 2 kilometers south of “Vietznitz” or “Vietnitz” / 3 kilometers south-southeast of Friesack 11726, KU 3570 43-38337, BI * N, Cloud Hopper, 1 Lt. Robert R. Richter, 9 crew members – 3 survivors 35 kilometers west-southwest of Neuruppin, near village of Dreetz (“Wolfsplan”) 11721, KU 3575
43-38526, BI * Z, Star Duster, 1 Lt. Louis F. Niebergall, 9 crew members – 6 survivors 27 kilometers southwest of Neuruppin 11722, KU 3567
44-6480, BI * E, 1 Lt. Daniel R. Thumlert, 9 crew members – 2 survivors On Landstrasse (street) Ketzin, 3 kilometers from Ketzin / 13 kilometers south of Neuen 11826, KU 3561 44-8426, BI * G, 1 Lt. Alvin J. Morman, 9 crew members – 5 survivors 3.5 kilometers west of Wachow / 20 kilometers northeast of Brandenburg 11719, KU 3561
571st Bomb Squadron
Also from The Story of the 390th Bombardment Group (H) is this image of the 571st Bomb Squadron’s emblem.
42-102673, FC * B, Good-O Yank, 1 Lt. Joseph W. Lewis, 9 crew members, 4 survivors 2 kilometers northwest of Goerne / 6 kilometers west of Friesack 11724, KU 3574 43-38665, FC * Z, Queen of the Skies, 2 Lt. Emory R. Hanneke, 10 crew members – 1 survivor 40 kilometers southwest or west of Neuruppin / at “Bartschendorf” 11723, KU 3575
The picture of Queen of the Skies is American Air Museum in Britain photo UPL 30452, contributed by Lucy May.
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F/O Jerome Joseph Katzman 3rd Air Division, 8th Air Force, 390th Bomb Group, 571st Bomb Squadron
Tuesday I go on “Flak leave” to a “Flak house.” Flak is the stuff the Germans pop up at us. After 20 missions or so they send us there for a week’s rest. I need it. The war ain’t over yet over here.
Only four men survived the loss of B-17G 42-102673, Good-O Yank: co-pilot 2 Lt. Mike Klemenok, navigator F/O Jerome J. Katzman, togglier S/Sgt. Robert L. Battleson, and flight engineer S/Sgt. Kenneth E. Huber.
Also from the American Air Museum in Britain is this image of Good-O Yank, photo FRE 8214, I think from the Roger Freeman collection. Interestingly, the chin turret bears two nicknames: “BARBE – BETTE“.
As described by Lt. Klemenok in a Casualty Questionnaire in MACR 11724, Lt. Lewis was last seen in the pilot’s seat carrying on his duties as aircraft commander. “At the time of attack the controls were turned over to the co-pilot while the pilot (Lt. Lewis) attempted to establish contact with lead ship of formation. It was found necessary to leave formation, due to wing fire extending to bomb load. Every attempt was made to extinguish flames. Being in command of the ship at that instant, the order to bail out was given. The pilot then took over with the intention of leaving by way of waist door and check the crew in so doing. Upon leaving the aircraft it was noticed that flames had already extended to just behind the flight deck and a glimpse while falling showed that the ship was a ball of flame. It is believed the aircraft was demolished by explosion.”
As evidenced by the fact that no survivors emerged from the aft section of the aircraft, Lt. Klemenok mentioned that the rear portion of the aircraft received the brunt of enemy attacks, being severely riddled by 20mm cannon fire, with flames from Good-O Yank’s fuel tanks extending to the bomb bay, in which the bomb salvo mechanism was inoperable.
The four survivors bailed out through the bomber’s nose hatch, the flight engineer last. All the while, Lt. Lewis was seen steadying the aircraft to enable the escape of his crew.
The aircraft exploded moments later.
F/O Katzman’s postwar report was far more succinct:“Did not leave sqdn formation. Sqdn. stayed with leader (Major McHenry) who straggled whole sqdn. All shot down.”
This image of Joseph Lewis’ crew is via the 390th Memorial Museum. Crewmens’ names are listed below the photo.
Rear, left to right:
Pilot: Lewis, Joseph W., 1 Lt. – KIA Co-Pilot: Klemenok, Mike, 2 Lt. – Survived Navigator (Mickey): In photo: Keelan, James E. (Not in this crew on January 14 mission) Navigator: Not in photo: Katzman, Jerome J., F/O – Survived Bombardier: In photo: Drusch, Edward W. – (Not in this crew on January 14 mission) Togglier: Not in photo: Battleson, Robert L., S/Sgt. – Survived
Front, left to right:
Flight Engineer: Huber, Kenneth E., S/Sgt. – Survived Radio Operator: Ruane, John V., Sgt. – KIA Gunner (Ball Turret): In photo: McGowen (Not a crew member) (Not in this crew on January 14 mission) Gunner (Ball Turret): Morrison, Earl Y., Sgt. – KIA Gunner (Waist): Koralewski, John J., Sgt. – KIA Gunner (Tail): Porcher, John W., III, Sgt. – KIA
Listed on page 359 of American Jews in World War II, F/O Jerome Joseph Katzman (T-129325) was imprisoned at Stalag 3A (Luckenwalde, Germany), his name appearing in a list of liberated POWs published on June 5, 1945. Born in Utica, New York, on September 27, 1918, he was the son of Nathan (1883-8/9/52) and Jennie (Cohen) (12/25/92-10/17/77) Katzman of 157 Pleasant Street, and brother of George and Morris. The recipient of the Air Medal with two Oak Leaf Clusters and Purple Heart, he completed 21 combat missions. He passed away on April 14, 2000.
The Ellen Freeman Bodow Family Tree at Ancestry.com features several fascinating documents and images pertaining to Jerome Katzman’s family and military service.
Though undated, this photo of the Katzman family – with Jerome at the upper right – evidently was taken prior to his departure for England.
In this picture, the Oak Leaf Clusters attached to Jerome’s ribbons reveal that the portrait was taken after his return from Europe.
The Ellen Freeman Bodow Family Tree also includes scans of a letter written by Jerome to his family on January 7, 1945 (he mistakenly lists the year as 1944), exactly one week before he was captured. The letter, addressed to a Freeman family in Utica (I don’t know the relationship), reveals a man with a direct sense of humor, whose writing was marked by frankness and brevity. I especially like the line, “Tuesday I go on “Flak leave” to a “Flak house.” Flak is the stuff the Germans pop up at us. After 20 missions or so they send us there for a week’s rest. I need it. The war ain’t over yet over here.” And, the enigmatic,“Was down to London last week again. Quite a town. I’m beginning to know quite a few people there & enjoy it immensely.”
The letter appears below, in a single composite image…
The letter…
Mr. & Mrs. L. Freeman
232 South St.
Utica, N.Y.
U.S.A.
7 Jan 44
Dear ole people & 3 kids,
Finally got time & ambitious enough at the same instant to set down & scribble a billet deaux. (?) Things here is much the same.
I got your package. Thanks a lot but I don’t like prunes & various. The whiskey was good but low in quantity. 1 qt. Bourbon would be really welcome. So I’ll make this a formal request for Cheese, Crackers & a jar of Mustard & etc. The Bourbon is the etc. Package it well & ship to me. I’ll sure appreciate it. Oh yeah, don’t put a return address on it so if the Postal Authorities get hip you can get fined for it.
Tuesday I go on “Flak leave” to a “Flak house.” Flak is the stuff the Germans pop up at us. After 20 missions or so they send us there for a weeks’ rest. I need it. The war ain’t over yet over here.
How about a little local gossip. I ain’t had nothin’ but Ellen Francis & Sue Lou in all the letters I get. Nor have I heard from Goldy. Will you please send me his address. Look Flo please do me a favor. I’ve told Mom a dozen times but it don’t do no good.
My address is:
F/O Me 571st Bmb. Sqdn. – 390th Bmb Gp. APO 559, c/o Postmaster, N.Y.C., N.Y.
Please get it straight.
Was down to London last week again. Quite a town. I’m beginning to know quite a few people there & enjoy it immensely. Of course it costs pounds ($4.00 per pound). So 25 £ ain’t hay. It’s $100.00 bucks but what the hell. I’ve even been writing checks on my acct. back home. Oh well. That’s what it’s for. Might as well enjoy it.
I heard from Harold & Cissy & will answer them shortly.
England as usual is cold & wet. Central heating is a stove in the center of the room. You freeze to death here.
Not much else to write so will close with love to the kids.
Take care of yourselves.
Love Jerry
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2 Lt. Erwin M. Lutzer 3rd Air Division, 8th Air Force, 390th Bomb Group, 568th Bomb Squadron
Unlike Good-O Yank, most of the crew of Doc’s Flying Circus survived the shoot-down of their B-17. In a way perhaps representative of casualties aboard most of the 390th Bomb Group’s lost B-17s, pilot 1 Lt. Paul Goodrich and tail gunner S/Sgt. Leonard A. Losch never actually left the aircraft. Perhaps the former was wounded, or, he remained in the plane to ensure his crew were able to escape. The latter, because he was killed during attacks directed towards the rear of his aircraft by German fighters.
As reported by co-pilot 1 Lt. Raymond E. Thomas, Lt. Goodrich, ”… stood on [bomb-bay] catwalk and handed him [Lt. Goodrich] his parachute. I have no reason for his not leaving the ship unless he was wounded & didn’t know it. After I left the ship, I watch[ed] it fly in a fairly normal manner until I lost sight of it for reason or other,” while S/Sgt. Losch, “…called me over interphone & told me FW 190’s were coming in on the tail. The interphone was shot out right after that. (Found in aircraft.)” Unlike other 390th Bomb Group B-17 losses this day, Doc’s Flying Circus seems (?) not to have exploded in mid-air, instead crashing to earth relatively intact.
Otherwise, the seven survivors all safely parachuted from their B-17.
The navigator of Doc’s Flying Circus – 2 Lt. Erwin M. Lutzer (0-719973) – born in Richmond Hill, New York, on May 28, 1924, was the son of Harry Lutzer, who lived at 118-65 Metropolitan Ave., in Kew Gardens, New York. Shot down on his 28th mission, he was imprisoned at Stalag 7A in (Moosburg). Historical references about him comprise the appearance of his name in a Casualty List (specifically listing liberated POWs) published on June 20, 1945, and, brief articles in the Long Island Daily Press on November 3, 1944 (and June 20), and Long Island Star-Journal on April 12, 1945. American Jews in World War II, in which his name is recorded on page 385, lists his awards as the Air Medal and two Oak Leaf Clusters. He died on November 9, 1988.
This image of Paul Goodrich’s crew is via the 390th Memorial Museum. Crewmens’ names are listed below the photo.
Rear, left to right:
Flight Engineer: Thomas, Jim K., T/Sgt. – Survived Gunner (Waist): In photo: Irwin, J. (Not in this crew on January 14 mission) Radio Operator: Zadzora, George J., T/Sgt. – Survived Gunner (Waist): Spence, Ralph K., S/Sgt. – Survived Gunner (Ball Turret): Horan, James M., S/Sgt. – Survived Gunner (Tail): Losch, Leonard A., S/Sgt. – KIA
Front, left to right:
Pilot: Goodrich, Paul, 1 Lt. – KIA Co-Pilot: Thomas, Raymond E., 1 Lt. – Survived Navigator: In photo: Nording, William L. (Not in this crew on January 14 mission) Navigator: Not in photo: Lutzer, Erwin M., 2 Lt. – Survived Bombardier: In photo: Shipplett, Wallace B. (Not in this crew on January 14 mission; KIA in Little Butch II) Togglier: Not in photo: Piston, Frank H., Jr., S/Sgt. –Survived
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T/Sgt. Martin Schwartz 3rd Air Division, 8th Air Force, 390th Bomb Group, 568th Bomb Squadron
Paralleling the fate of Good-O Yank, only half the crew of Little Butch II survived the loss of their B-17, amidst the most extreme circumstances possible: None of the crew actually exited the bomber through its escape hatches, for the plane exploded in mid-air, literally blowing the men into space, upon which the survivors – at least, those men able to do so – were able to deploy their parachutes. Perhaps this explains the fact that MACR 11720 only includes responses to Casualty Questionnaires by two of the plane’s five survivors: flight engineer T/Sgt. William L. Bongard, and waist gunner Sgt. Carl F. Packer.
As described by T/Sgt. Bongard, the pilot, 1 Lt. Walter R. Wiegand, “Did not have a chance to bail out.” Last seen on the bomber’s flight deck, he was pinned in the plane and could not escape before the aircraft exploded. His last words were, “Prepare to bail out. Let’s leave it men, too much fire.” And also for co-pilot 1 Lt. Herbert O. Bracht, who like Lt. Wiegand was uninjured. T/Sgt. Bongard assisted the lieutenant in opening the bomber’s nose entry hatch, but the two were evidently (also) pinned in the aircraft until it exploded. Likewise for 1 Lt. Wallace B. Shipplett, Good-O Yank’s bombardier. As reported to the sergeant by navigator 1 Lt. James R. Blaire, Shipplett, like Bracht, was, “Pinned in plane and could not get out. Aircraft exploded. As for the fate of S/Sgt. Noble E. Barker, the bomber’s tail gunner, who suffered the same fate as Sgt. Losch of Doc’s Flying Circus. His last words were, “Bandits at six o’clock, let’s get em boys.”
Also via the 390th Memorial Museum is this picture of Walter Wiegand’s crew. The names of the men of Little Butch II are listed below…
Rear, left to right:
Co-Pilot: Bracht, Herbert O., 1 Lt. – KIA Currie, S. (Training; not assigned to 390th BG) Pilot: Wiegand, Walter R., 1 Lt. – KIA Morley, E. (Training; not assigned to 390th BG) Navigator: Not in Photo: Blaire, James R., 1 Lt. – Survived Bombardier: Not in Photo: Shipplett, Wallace B., 1 Lt. – KIA (In crew photo of Doc’s Flying Circus)
Front, left to right:
Gunner (Tail): Barker, Noble E., S/Sgt. – KIA Radio Operator: Schwartz, Martin, T/Sgt. – Survived Gunner (Ball Turret): Richardson, Kenneth G., S/Sgt. – Survived Togglier: Piston, Frank H., Jr., S/Sgt. – Survived (In crew of Doc’s Flying Circus on January 14 mission) Flight Engineer: Bongard, William L., T/Sgt. – Survived Gunner (Waist); Packer, Carl F., Sgt. – Survived
Among Little Butch II’s five survivors was the bomber’s radio operator, T/Sgt. Martin Schwartz (12147520), whose name appears on page 435 of American Jews in World War II. As clearly revealed in a hospital admission form in Luftgaukommando Report KU 3572 – in the original German document as well as its English-language translation – Sgt. Schwartz was severely injured by fire from attacking German fighters (he was struck in his left elbow by a machine gun bullet), and also – presumably – by the very explosion which enabled his survival. Hospitalized at Garrison Hospital 101 at Neuruppin on January 16, the document was “signed off” by a “Colonel Gruenwald”, a physician and the facility’s chief medical officer, whose signature is at the bottom of the form…
A fascinating document in this Luftgaukommando Report is a “Registration Form”, a one-sheet document formatted to record information revealed by any English-speaking POW from the American and Commonwealth air forces unwary enough to disclose classified information to his German captors. About a third of the Registration Form is comprised of fields for biographical information about a POW, with the remaining two-thirds pertaining to a flier’s history of military service, with a detailed focus on the circumstances under which he was shot down and captured, and, the composition of his crew. Though the Form’s title and labels are all in English (grammatically correct English, at that!) at the very bottom of the form, there’s a strange twist: A line of diminutive text stating, “S 6064 / 44 Heidelberger Gutenberg-Druckerei GmbH. X. 44”, which I think translates as,“S 6064 / 44 Heidelberger, Gutenberg Printing Limited – October 44”. In this, it’s startling that text revealing the form’s publication in Germany, implying its true purpose, would be visible on the document!
Here’s Sgt. Schwartz’s Registration Form…
If you look closely (very closely!), you’ll see that the only information he revealed comprises the following:
SurnameSchwartz Date of Arrival 1.2.45 First and Middle NamesMartin Rank T/Sgt. Serial-Number 12147520 Position R/O When and where bornAug 11, 1922 Married (implying yes or no) no Children (implying yes or no) no Civilian occupation Student (radio engineer) Forced Down: Date14 Jan 45 Time afternoon Place central Germany Captured Date 15 Jan 45 Timeafternoon Placesame By civilians Type of AircraftB-17
What is evident is that Sgt. Schwartz didn’t fill out the form himself: his answers were presumably spoken, and then transcribed by his German interrogator, a Feldwebel Telten. How do we know this? The style of handwriting is identical among all data fields, and, both number 7s – in the Sergeant’s serial number “12147520”, and in “B-17”, are European style sevens, featuring a horizontal bar through the number. Sgt. Schwartz only revealed information that was obviously known to the Germans. And so, he was described by Telten as an, “Unsympathischer, ironisch grinsender, militarischer Angaben _____gender mensch. – “Unpleasant, ironically grinning man. Refuses to give military accounts.”
This characterization appears as a handwritten notation on the rear of the Registration Form, as seen below:
From Luftgaukommando Report KU 3572, this “Angabe über Gefangennahne von feindlichen Luftwaffenangehörigen” (“Information on the capture of enemy air force members”) form records Sgt. Schwartz’s capture at 1:30 P.M. near Friesack on January 14. The upper data fields note the crash of Little Butch II 37 kilometers south of Neuruppin.
This document lists the items Sgt. Schwartz was carrying – or wearing … in the case of his dog-tags – upon his capture. (Something tells me that he never got anything back.) A German transcription and English-language translation of the document are given below.
Neuruppin, den 16.1.1945
Verzeichnie
des persönlichen Eigentums des t./Sgt. Martin S c h w a t r z
Martin Schwartz was born in Brooklyn on August 11, 1922 to Harry and Yetta (Felsher) Schwartz, at 705 Saratoga Avenue. Eventually interned at the Hohe Mark Hospital, his name appeared in a Casualty List (listing the names of liberated POWs) published on June 19, 1945, and, on page 450 of the Story of the 390th Bomb Group. The recipient of the Air Medal with one Oak Leaf Cluster and Purple Heart, he flew 29 combat missions. His name appeared in a list of liberated POWs published in The New York Post (and TheNew York Times) on June 16, 1945, as seen below.
Sgt. Schwartz (subsequent to 1945, I suppose just “Martin Schwartz”?!) passed away in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, on January 23, 2000. And so, unfortunately, I never had the opportunity to contact and possibly interview him about his wartime experiences. (Then again, given the commonality of this name – and no middle initial – in a nation of over three hundred million people, how could he ever have been located?!).
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1 Lt. Jack Aaron Simon 3rd Air Division, 8th Air Force, 390th Bomb Group, 568th Bomb Squadron
The accounts of the losses of THE COLUMBUS MISS / Egg Haid,Ol Buddy, Good-O Yank, and Little Butch II are derived from statements by surviving crewmen from those aircraft, or, eyewitness reports by aviators in nearby planes. However, the case of un-nicknamed Flying Fortress BI * G (44-8426) is very different, for the story of the aircraft’s loss – below – comes directly from a Casualty Questionnaire completed by one of the bomber’s surviving crewmen, First Lieutenant Jack Aaron Simon (0-466826), the plane’s navigator. In terms of historical records, Jack Simon’s story is representative of what can be found in a very small number of Missing Air Crew Reports, which are significant in featuring extremely detailed write-ups, through which a surviving crew member will relate the events of a mission – a crew’s final mission – in a detailed, story-like fashion.
And so, here’s a verbatim transcript of Jack Simon’s story. (What’s particularly sad about the tale is the fact that Lieutenants Morman and Vevle, the aircraft’s pilot and co-pilot, were still alive and entirely uninjured at the moment when Lt. Simon left the aircraft via the forward escape hatch…)
This Oogle map shows BI * G’s probable crash site…
On January 14, 1945, in an operational flight over Germany, our plane was part of a squadron attacked by a large force of enemy fighters. Shortly after the initial assaults, the interphone having been made inoperative immediately, the engineer was observed abandoning the ship. Learning by signals that we were going down, the toggelier was alerted and preparation made to leave also. At the time of the communicating with the engineer who was at the escape hatch near the nose, the copilot, Lt. Vevle, was observed standing in the escape hatch behind the engineer. With the engineer gone, I entered the escape hatch and stood up beside Lt. Vevle and verified by signs that we were going down (wing fire not visible from nose) and that he and the pilot, Lt. Morman were alright. With that information, I left the ship. The toggelier, Sgt. Springborn, leaving the ship only seconds later apparently, states than no one was standing in the escape hatch, and though from his position he could not be sure, he does not believe there was anyone in the pilots compartment. (From personal conversations later.) The engineer also verified at the time of his leaving the ship the pilot and co-pilot were uninjured. When I bailed out, I landed a few kilometers southeast of the small town of Freysach (spelling?) Germany. It is my understanding that Sgt. Manfredini, Sgt. Springborn, and Sgt. Barton all landed within a few miles radius.
The following paragraph is further Information gleaned from conversations with Sgt. James F. Stieg, the lower turret gunner. Despite the visible fire, he remained at his position in the turret until he was wounded in the leg. He crawled out of his turret and found the bodies of Sgt. Leon Cousineau and Sgt. Robert Hehr waist gunner and radio operator respectively, lying in the waist. He made an effort to revive both, but found that both had apparently been instantly killed. Manning a waist gun against fighters which continued to attack, until wounded again, he then tried to get out the waist escape hatch, but was unable to get the door off, because the emergency release would not operate. He estimates this action consumed approximately fifteen minutes which is substantiated by the fact that he landed near Potsdam. Being unable to get out, and in a weakened condition, he endeavored to protect himself from flames then entering the fuselage when the ship blew up, hurling him into space where he was able to parachute to safety. Because of the erratic flight of the aircraft, he assumes that the ship was flying out of control. Although he did not go forward of the radio room, he feels that there was no one in the pilot’s compartment.
The only additional information was obtained from the German colonel who interrogated me, who for some unexplainable reason called me in just before my release from the interrogation center to inform me of the disposition of my crew. According to his statement, the bodies of Lt. Vevle, Lt. Morman, Sgt. Cousineau and Sgt. Hehr were found in the airplane. The others were accounted for as prisoners of war except for Sgt. Stieg, regarding whose whereabouts he was uninformed. At that time, it was later learned from Sgt. Stieg, he was in a hospital in Berlin. It is possible that a more exact position of where the aircraft crashed may be obtained from Sgt. Stieg.
As above, the 390th Memorial Museum is the source of this photo: The crew of Alvin Morman. The names of the airmen of BI * G follow…
Rear, left to right:
Flight Engineer: Manfredini, Mario J., T/Sgt. – Survived Radio Operator: Hehr, Robert G., T/Sgt. – KIA Gunner (Waist): Cousineau, Leon J., S/Sgt. – KIA Gunner (Ball Turret): Stieg, James F., S/Sgt. – Survived Unknown Gunner (Tail): Barton, Samuel W., S/Sgt. – Survived
Front, left to right:
Pilot: Morman, Alvin J., 1 Lt. – KIA Co-Pilot: Vevle, Floyd Martin, 1 Lt. – KIA Navigator: Simon, Jack A., 1 Lt. – Survived Togglier: In photo: Senseny, Eugene F. (Not in this crew on January 14 mission) Togglier: Not in photo: Springborn, Robert C., Sgt. – Survived
Born in Champaign, Illinois, on June 17, 1919, Lt. Simon, who completed 27 missions, was awarded the Air Medal and three Oak Leaf Clusters. Imprisoned at Stalag 7A, his name appears on page 117 of American Jews in World War II, and, page 448 of the Story of the 390th Bomb Group. The son of Abraham (12/24/88-10/7/64) and Lenore Sarah (Levy) (5/29/95-4/6/84) Simon, and brother of Harold and Robert, his family resided at 502 West Oregon Street, in Urbana.
Though the specific date on which Jack Simon wrote his account of the fate of BI * G for the Army Air Force is unknown (well, let’s assume it was in the latter half of 1945, or, 1946), it was almost certainly preceded by similar document of much greater scope and detail. This was Jack’s essay Four Months A Prisoner of War in 1945, which was composed on July 25, 1945, after his return to Urbana. Vastly expanding on his write-up for the MACR, Four Months encompasses (very briefly) events preceding the shoot-down of the Morman crew, the events of the Derben mission, his capture and interrogation, his imprisonment at Nuremberg, a forced march to Moosburg near the war’s end, his liberation, returning to Urbana, and in closing, reflections on the past from the very (very) short vantage point of the summer of 1945.
One of the closing paragraphs is speculation on the fate of his pilot and co-pilot. Namely, “…I heard from Gene Senseny, our bombardier who had not flown with us the day we went down. He had completed his missions, had come home and was discharged soon after reassignment. I had hoped to see him while I was home, but haven’t gotten to yet. As for the other boys, three of the families received notice of killed in action, but Vevle the co pilot wasn’t reported. I’ve held out hope for a miracle here, but time is an enemy in that regard. I am convinced that Floyd Vevle and Alvin Morman [pilot] gave their lives in an attempt to assure the safety of the remainder of the crew. Because of a failure of the alarm system and the interphone, I think Floyd may have attempted to warn the boys in the rear part of the ship while Alvin remained at the control. Both had their chutes on before I knew we were going down. Yet, the toggelier reported no one in the hatchway when he went out. On this assumption, I’m making an effort to get them some recognition for their act. They were wonderful boys, and so selfless, that I know they could not have done any differently.”
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The Second World War eventuated in great tragedy for the Vevle family. Prior to Floyd Vevle’s death on January 14, 1945, his twin brother, 1 Lt. Lloyd Oliver Vevle – remarkably, also a B-17 co-pilot in the 8th Air Force – was killed on September 28, 1944 while serving in the 545th Bomb Squadron of the 384th Bomb Group. A crew member of 1 Lt. James J. Brodie in B-17G 42-31222 (Lazy Daisy), his aircraft was involved in a mid-air collision with B-17G 43-37822 of the 544th Bomb Squadron, piloted by 1 Lt. John O. Buslee. Of the eighteen men aboard the two aircraft, there emerged four survivors: Three from Brodie’s bomber (navigator 2 Lt. George M. Hawkins, Jr., and gunners Sergeants Alfred F. Miller and Harry A. Liniger) and a single man from Buslee’s (waist gunner S/Sgt. George Edwin Farrar).
Writer Cindy Farrar Bryan, George Farrar’s daughter, has done extraordinarily thorough research about her father’s military experiences (particularly focusing on the mission of September 28, 1944) in the larger context of researching her family’s history. Her work can be found at The Arrowhead Club, with her chronicle of the lives of the Vevle brothers appearing at The Vevle Twins.
The Vevle brothers had one surviving sibling: Rudolph Bernhardt Vevle, born in 1912, who died in 2000.
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Subsequent to his return to Urbana, Jack Simons returned to his career as a geologist, having acquired a Bachelor’s degree in the subject from the University of Illinois in 1941, and a Master’s Degree by 1946. He served as Chief of the Illinois Geological Survey from 1975 through 1982, when he retired for health reasons. He passed away at the age of seventy-six on December 17, 2005.
Four Months remained unpublished during his lifetime, and was only made publicly available in 2007, one year after his passing. As related in the document’s Preface, he “…gave Paul DuMontelle [Senior Geologist Emeritus at the Illinois Geologic Survey] a typed copy of his story several years before he passed away, but being the gentleman that he was, he did not share this wartime story with his colleagues, which inspired this printing.” Now in 2023, the document remains available through the HathiTrust.
The following five illustrations are from Four Months.
Here’s a list of the Morman crew’s combat missions from October 7, 1944 through January 14, 1945, as compiled by Jack Simon in 1987…
“Jack Simon (center) with his pals, his pilot and co-pilot,” Lieutenants Morman (left?) and Vevle (right?)…
“Jack Simon and three crew members dressed and ready for high-altitude cold.”…
“Jack Simon’s identity paper as a prisoner of war.”…
“A letter home on POW supplied paper. In his letters, Jack Simon refers to the family of Dr. Gilbert H. Cady, who was at the time the Head of the Illinois State Geological Survey’s Coal Section and who lived next door to the Simon family on Oregon Street in Urbana.”
The text of the letter appears below…
Dearest folks, It has been a couple of weeks since I lasty wrote, and we are now becoming somewhat accustomed to the life of a “Kriegsfangener.” I’m in good health and am getting along O.K. I hope you didn’t have to wait too long to find out I was a P.O.W. We are all anxious for the war to end so that we can get home but are getting along pretty well in the meantime. God bless the International Red Cross for what they are doing and for what they have done. We are settled in a camp now and are able to settle down to some kind of daily routine. I know several other boys here and occasionally bump into one that I know from the States. Feb. 17, 1944
We’ll hope the war is over perhaps by the time this reaches you, but if by chance it won’t, send a food parcel with Nestles Hot Chocolate, Soluble coffee, concentrated chocolate (Hershey dime store variety) and ready mix preparations. Love to all and fondest regards to the Cady’s.
Flight Officer Israel Mayo Larkin (Latkowitch) 3rd Air Division, 8th Air Force, 487th Bomb Group, 838th Bomb Squadron
The burgomeister ordered a search and compelled me to undress myself. He then forced me to stand at attention while numerous telephone calls were being made and I was questioned separately about each article of my personal effects. They wanted to find my papers. They asked me for my papers. I told them I had no papers. They insisted I had papers and they took apart my emergency medical kit and asked me to explain that. The search disclosed a Jewish bible which I was carrying. I was asked if it belonged to me and I answered “Yes” and it caused a mild sensation. The burgomeister asked me why I had come back to Germany, didn’t I know what they did to the Jews…
Jack Simons’ Four Months a Prisoner of War in 1945 carries the following enigmatic passage, “Around midnight, however, we were taken downstairs, searched again and the more fortunate ones received most of their clothing back although mine was all gone by the time I got there. It was some relief to be in the hands of the army, but though I had received no roughing up by nature of my religious origins, one of the boys whose name and face were not very inconspicuous, had been pushed around a bit and spat on, but what the military would do remained to be seen. Most of the way through, we were so much more fortunate than a great many of the boys that I’ve talked to that I almost hesitate to recount it, but it is simply explainable I think, in that it all depends who gets their hands on you.”
Given the ambiguity of Simons’ account, it’s impossible to identify the man, “…whose name and face were not very inconspicuous…” He could have been F/O Katzman, Lt. Lutzer, or Sgt. Schwartz. Indeed, he may not have been Jewish at all. But, there was one man shot down on the Derben mission, whose experiences upon being captured were vastly worse than those endured by Simons’ anonymous airman. That aviator was Flight Officer Mayo Israel Larkin (Latkowitch) (T-132318), the navigator of B-17G Our Baby of the 487th Bomb Group’s 838th Bomb Squadron.
Pilot: Moser, James L., 2 Lt. Co-Pilot: Summerlin, Conrad P., 2 Lt. Navigator: Larkin, Mayo I., F/O Bombardier: Kenney, Lt. Paul E., 2 Lt.
Rear, order unknown:
Flight Engineer: Flanery, Coy L., Sgt. Radio Operator: Leo, Orland D., Sgt. Gunner (Ball Turret): Ketcham, Robert L., Sgt. Gunner (Waist) Weisman, Kenneth W., Sgt. Gunner (Tail): Sahlstrom, Hubert R., Sgt.
The four 487th Bomb Group B-17s lost on January 14, 1945, comprised:
42-98013, 2C * M, 1 Lt. Clement J. Kochczynski, 9 crew members – 4 survivors Near Wentschau, 33 kilometers east southeast of Lueneburg 11734, KU 3571
43-38002, Our Baby, 2 Lt. James L. Moser, 9 crew members – all survived (F/O Larkin’s plane) Village of Rhode (border of village into church), 9.5 kilometers northwest of Air Base Helmstedt 11733, KU 3562
43-37933, 4F * C, Yankee Maid, 2 Lt. Harry T. Nyland, 9 crew members – 8 survivors Between Redefin and Gross Krams, 12 kilometers south of Hagenow 11732, KU 3560
44-8563, 1 Lt. Omar D. Stemple, 11 crew members – 9 survivors Near Gutenpaaren, 26 kilometers northwest of Brandenburg 11731, KU 3559
Two of these bombers were lost due to a mid-air collision. 2C * M (42-98013), as described in MACR 11734, was assumed to have collided with Yankee Maid (43-37933), then peeled off to the “right” to head northwest, with its rudder knocked off and dorsal turret damaged. Initially seen to maintain its altitude while remaining under control, 2C * M eventually exploded with the loss of four crewmen. This was the crew’s first combat mission, and the 36th for pilot Clement Kochczynski (he’d already completed his assigned tour of missions) who did not survive.
However… In reality, 2C * M struck Our Baby (43-38002), the crew of which was forced to parachute. As reported by Larkin after the war,“At bombs away an aircraft on my left contacted my aircraft shearing major portion of left wing and empianage. [sic] We were forced to leave the plane by chute [at 27,000’]. / Pilot, Co-Pilot, Eng., Nav., Bomb., R.O. bailed out open bomb bay, W.G., Ball Turret & Tail bailed out waist door. Plane had major battle damage at time of bomb run.”
Our Baby probably crashed at the location designated by the red oval.
Lt. Stemple’s 44-8563 was shot down by enemy planes, leaving nine survivors.
As for 43-37933, Yankee Maid, Lt. Nyland wrote after the war that his parents received an incorrect account of his bomber’s loss, which listed the wrong target, and, attributed his plane’s loss to the above-mentioned mid-air collision. In reality, Yankee Maid lost its #4 engine, fell out of the 487th’s formation, and was attacked by six Me-109s, of which four were claimed by the bomber’s gunners.
Very many of my posts have touched upon the subject of the experiences of prisoners of war, “in general” – a perennial aspect of military conflict, and, the fate of Jewish prisoners of war in captivity of Nazi Germany, “in particular” – a situation unique to the Second World War.
The case of Flight Officer Larkin exemplified the potential dangers of the latter. Immediately upon being identified as a Jew he was subject to physical and psychological mistreatment by his captors. This commenced upon his arrival at the German town of Helmstedt, continued the same day at Halberstadt, reached its worst culmination in Magdeburg on January 15, and only ceased when – in the company of five other American POWs; fellow crew members from Our Baby – he departed the latter city for Frankfurt am Main. Though he was no longer singled out for mistreatment while enroute to the latter destination, the group was subjected to a civilian’s verbal harangue with an explicitly intended threat of murder, which, given the apathy and open agreement of their guards, might have happened if not for the fortuitous arrival of a streetcar. (A very similar experience was endured by S/Sgt. Theodore L. Solomon (Satmary) of the 815th Bomb Squadron, 483rd Bomb Group, ball turret gunner of the B-17 Bunky, after having been shot down on July 18, 1944.) Eventually arriving at Stalag 3A (Luckenwalde), F/O Larkin remained at that camp until his liberation by Russian troops, reaching American lines on May 6, 1945.
Flight Officer Larkin was interviewed about his experiences on July 20, 1945, at the Headquarters of the First Service Command, 808 Commonwealth Avenue, in Boston, by special agent Edward M. Conley of the Security and Intelligence Corps, his answers having been recorded by Vince A. Creeden, a civilian employee of the First Service Command’s Intelligence Division. Though agent Conley’s line of questioning was extremely thorough and very perceptive, unsurprisingly (well, to the best of my knowledge) nothing further eventuated from the information provided by Flight Officer Larkin, in the way of investigation or identification of the civilians or military personnel responsible for his mistreatment. I would think that this was because he simply never knew (and never could have learned) the identities of his captors at Helmstedt, Halberstadt, and Magdeburg, though I’m certain records of these mens’ identities still exist… Much more pragmatically, during the first Cold War these cities fell into the Soviet Zone of occupation and eventually were part of the German Democratic Republic. Of equal and ironic pragmatism (?!), the totality of his experience didn‘t reach the gravity of other war crimes.
Finally and simply, Mayo Larkin endured and came through his experiences to have a successful and productive postwar life.
Here are some excerpts from F/O Larkin’s interrogation by Agent Conley, as recorded in Judge Advocate General’s Office Case Files 12-1975, 12-1976, and 12-1977 of NARA Records Group RG 153.
At Helmstedt…
I was captured by the Volksturm and was marched through the town of Helmstadt. I was escorted by civilians. One civilian struck me with his bicycle. I was taken to the burgomeister and searched. The search disclosed a Jewish bible among my possessions, which served as motivation for mistreatment. I was beaten by the burgomeister; that is, struck on the head causing a fracture of the nose, black eyes and bleeding. I was held during this time by two German soldiers who, I believe, were SS men. My clothing was removed and I was compelled to travel in underwear and stockings from this point.
The burgomeister ordered a search and compelled me to undress myself. He then forced me to stand at attention while numerous telephone calls were being made and I was questioned separately about each article of my personal effects. They wanted to find my papers. They asked me for my papers. I told them I had no papers. They insisted I had papers and they took apart my emergency medical kit and asked me to explain that. The search disclosed a Jewish bible which I was carrying. I was asked if it belonged to me and I answered “Yes” and it caused a mild sensation. The burgomeister asked me why I had come back to Germany, didn’t I know what they did to the Jews, and he insisted that I could speak German, and I told him I did not understand German. The burgomeister got up from behind his desk, came over to me and struck me and two guards held me while he did it.
At Halberstadt…
Q. Where were you taken? A. I was put in an automobile and driven to Halberstadt, about an hour’s ride, and taken to what I believe was the Gestapo headquarters. A. He exchanged greetings with the usual Hitler salute and informed the person sitting behind one of the four desks that I was a Jew and made quite a joke out of it, and he also brought greetings from the burgomeister of Helmstadt with the additional comment that they should take care of me because I was a Jew. Q. How did the guard know that you were a Jew? A. I carried a Jewish bible on my person when I was captured and it was found by the burgomeister when I was searched in Helmstadt. The guard was told by the burgomeister, when he came to transport me to Halberstadt, that I was a Jew and that the information should be carried to the next source.
At Magdeburg…
A. He was sort of half sitting and standing on the corner of a desk and he got up and said, “I am tired of wasting time with you. I have lost my patience with you. Have you ever heard of the Gestapo?” I answered, “No.” He then said, “Do you know what the Gestapo means?” I said, “No,” and then he shouted, “Gestapo! Gestapo! Dick Tracy! Dick Tracy!” and I couldn’t help smile, and, when I smiled, he became infuriated and began to beat me. Q. With what did he beat you? A. His fists. Q. How many times did he strike you? A. About three or four times, twice on the back of the head behind my ear. Q. Were the blows painful? A. No, they merely stunned me. Q. Did you sustain any injuries as a result of his beating? A. I couldn’t distinguish this particular injury from those I had received before. It all seemed continuous. Q. What other mistreatment did he subject you to? A. He drew his pistol and placed it between my eyes and said something to the effect that, if you don’t know what the Gestapo means, maybe this will show you – – something similar to that only he was saying it to the other Germans in the room. “If he doesn’t know what the Gestapo is, when he sees this, he will know.” He pulled the trigger and the pistol failed to fire as it apparently was not cocked. Then he cocked the pistol and, as he did so, I heard a round go into the chamber. I then pleaded for time in an attempt to stall, telling him I was so confused, excited, weak, and tired that I couldn’t think clearly and would tell him all he wanted to know if he would just wait until tomorrow morning. He then placed the pistol back in its holster and conferred with the other Germans in the room and I was then taken back to my cell. Early the following morning I was taken from my cell; some of my crew were picked up and we were taken to a train station to board transportation for Frankfurt am Main.
At Frankfurt am Main train station…
He said that we were murderers; that we bombed civilians; that we killed women and children. He shouted, “Look at what you have done to these homes,” because we were standing in the center of the city. He turned to the civilians around and said that we ought to be hung and turned back to us and, shaking his cane, said that the Germans didn’t kill prisoners of war. He shouted, “Your Army is not worth a — I cannot recall the words he used — all you know how to do is to bomb; you don’t fight like soldiers; you wait two or three months; you will see what will be; in the last war, we quit at ten minutes of twelve; this war we will begin at ten minutes after twelve.” Then he turned back to the crowd and continued his harangue.
From Luftgaukommando Report KU 3562, this “Angaben über Gefangennahne von feindlichen Luftwaffenangehörigen” (“Information on the capture of enemy air force members”) – different in format from that for Sgt. Schwartz – records F/O Larkin’s capture at 2:30 P.M. near Rhode on January 14. The upper data fields note the crash of Our Baby at 1:30 P.M. on the same day, 9 ½ kilometers northwest of that town. In the upper right of the form, a detail-oriented member of the Luftwaffe penciled in the identifying letter of the 487th Bomb Group (“P“), Our Baby’s serial number (“338002“), and the aircraft’s individual plane-in-squadron identifying letter (“C“).
Mayo Israel Larkin was born in Allston, Massachusetts, on July 25, 1916, the son of Julius and Francis (Szathmary) (8/5/90-5/15/66) Latkowitch, of 75 Aldie Street, in Allston. This is his portrait from the 1938 class yearbook of the Massachusetts College of Art and Design, via Ancestry.com.
Like so very many of the American Jewish WW II soldiers mentioned at this blog, his name never appeared in American Jews in World War II. An architect postwar (partner in the firm Larkin & Glassman Associates and member of the Boston Society of Architects) he was married to Martha (Goorno) Larkin (7/1/17-1/9/01) and passed away on June 16, 2011. He’s buried next to his wife at Sharon Memorial Park, in Massachusetts.
Astor, Gerald, The Mighty Eighth: The Air War in Europe as Told by the Men Who Fought It, Dell Publishing, New York, N.Y., 1997
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
Freeman, Roger A., The Mighty Eighth – A History of the U.S. 8th Army Air Force, Doubleday and Company, Inc., New York, N.Y., 1970
Freeman, Roger A., The B-17 Flying Fortress Story – Design – Production – History, Arms & Armour Press, London, England, 1998
Milliken, Albert E. (editor), The Story of the 390th Bombardment Group (H), N.Y., 1947
Richarz, Wilbert H., Perry, Richard H., and Robinson, William J., The 390th Bomb Group Anthology – Volume I, 390th Memorial Museum Foundation Inc., P.O. Box 15087, Tuscon, Az., 1983
Richarz, Wilbert H., Perry, Richard H., and Robinson, William J., The 390th Bomb Group Anthology – Volume II, 390th Memorial Museum Foundation Inc., P.O. Box 15087, Tuscon, Az., 1985
NARA Records Group 153 (Records of the Office of the Judge Advocate General), Case Files 12-1975, 12-1976, 12-1977 12-1975: In the matter of the beating of Flight Officer Mayo Israel Larkin, USAAF, by the German burgomeister at Helmstedt, Germany, 14 January 1945. 12-1976: In the matter of the beating by German officials of Flight Officer Mayo Israel Larkin, USAAF, at Halberstadt, Germany, 14 January 1945. 12-1977: In the matter of the beating by German officials of Flight Officer Mayo Israel Larkin, USAAF, at Magdeburg, Germany, 14 January 1945.
Websites
Wayne’s Journal – A life of a B-25 tail gunner with the 42nd Bombardment Group in the South Pacific – January 14, 1945
Tempest V Performance – Combat Reports (Includes four Reports for January 14, 1945)
390th Memorial Museum Foundation – Database (390th Memorial Museum’s Research Portal)
-and-
390th Bomb Group Works Cited
The Story of the 390th Bombardment Group (Paducah: Turner Publishing Company, 1947), 65-66. “390th Bomb Group: History of Aircraft Assigned.” Unpublished manuscript. 390th Memorial Museum. Joseph A. Moller Library. “390th Bomb Group Tower Log: November 22, 1944 – June 27, 1945.” Unpublished manuscript. 390th Memorial Museum. Joseph A. Moller Library. “Mission – No. 243, Target – Derben, Germany, Date – 14 January 1945.” Mission Reports Part I, MISSION_REPORTS_03, file no. 1266-1267. Digital Repositories. 390th Memorial Museum. Joseph A. Moller Library.
When you delve into the past, it soon becomes apparent how rapidly knowledge of “what has come before” recedes into the mists of time … even for events that are, in a relative sense, quite recent. I suppose this has always been true. But, I only began to really appreciate the fragility of memory when I embarked upon searching for historical records, biographical information, and personal recollections concerning soldiers who served in the Second World War. (And the Great War. And the Korean War. And so on…)
Military and personal histories are – true – now readily available at the touch of an icon. But, upon a deeper look, the ambiguities, absences, and gaps inherent to knowledge of the past are striking, boldly contrasting with the way in which the Internet creates the impression – or should we say illusion? – of the immediate availability and depth of historical information.
And so, I think back to some of my earliest internet writings concerning Jewish soldiers… These include a series about the S.S. Erinpura, which was sunk by the Luftwaffe of the Libyan coast on May 1, 1943 (Nissan 26, 5703), with the loss of several hundred soldiers from the Yishuv, and, Africa. Of the 138 Jewish troops who were killed in the sinking of this vessel – all members of the 462nd General Transport Company – nominal references or historical records are available for most, primarily in Volume I of Henry Morris’ We Will Remember Them (and a few in its companion Volume II), and, the Israeli Government’s Izkor website, for “The Commemoration Site of Fallen Defense and Security Forces of Israel”. (Very little news about this event appeared in the English-language news media, and – entirely unsurprisingly – nothing whatsoever in the American Jewish press.) After plumbing those sources, I found that there was a small number of soldiers – eleven men in total – for whom genealogical information was unavailable, or, for whom – in eight cases – information was limited to a soldier’s date and/or place of birth.
But of the eleven, one man – the focus of this post – is “anonymous” no more. He was; he is; he remains Driver Victor Chaim Hananel, PAL/31222, born in Istanbul in 1922. This is due to the interest and enthusiasm of his family, particularly Tony Hananel, the daughter-in-law of Victor’s brother Isak (Tony’s husband is Leon, the nephew Victor Chaim never knew), I’m now able to present a picture of Victor’s life through images and words. Though his biography is incomplete, it is a biography nonetheless.
As so, the other soldiers; the currently “unknown” ten, are:
In that, as suggested by Zelda Mishkovsky’s poem “Every Man Has A Name” – at the “end” of this post – let this account stand as a symbol for those whose life stories remain, for now, unknown.
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The origins of the Hananel family probably lie in the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492, the exiled family eventually settling in Budin (Budin Eyalet). As explained at Wikipedia, “Budin Eyalet (also known as Province of Budin/Buda or Pashalik of Budin/Buda, Ottoman Turkish: ایالت بودین) was an administrative territorial entity of the Ottoman Empire in Central Europe and the Balkans. It was formed on the territories that the Ottoman Empire conquered from the medieval Kingdom of Hungary and Serbian Desperate. The capital of the Budin Province was Budin (Hungarian: Buda).”
The family’s presence in Budin is confirmed by their possession of an Imperial Edict from the 16th Century. This document (see the image below) expresses gratitude to the Hananels and other Jewish families who opened the doors of fortress Budin in 1526, when the Ottoman Empire conquered the city.
In time, the family moved to Constantinople.
In further time, we come to the twentieth century.
Victor Chaim’s father Yuda Leon was the owner of a textile business. He and his wife Rebeka had four sons – oldest to youngest David Danny, Emil, Isak, and Victor Chaim – all of whom attended a French Jesuit School in Istanbul. The three elder brothers were sent to either France or Belgium where they finished their high school studies, subsequently returning to Turkey, where they and their parents survived the Second World War. (Turkey didn’t become an Allied combatant until February 23, 1945.) By the time that Chaim Victor – the youngest – was in middle school, the Second World War had commenced. As a result, he was forced to remain in Istanbul, from where he graduated from high school.
What happened next? In Tony Hananel’s words, “Apparently Victor Chaim fell in love with a young Christian woman and wanted to marry her. His parents objected to the wedding citing that the elder brothers were not yet married and that he had to wait for his turn. Frustrated … he … left Turkey, travelled to Palestine and joined the Jewish Brigade.”
Ironically, though no actual letters remain from Victor Chaim’s sojourn in the Yishuv, with great irony, four bare envelopes which probably contained correspondence replying to the brothers’ inquiries to British military authorities about the fate of their youngest sibling, still exist. Alas, any and all inquiries bore no fruit. As Tony has written, “…Victor’s parents died not even sure of their son’s fate. The brothers clearly knew that he had somehow met his death but nothing of the circumstances.”
As Tony explained, “Had there been any [correspondence between Victor Chaim and his family] though, they would surely not have been in Hebrew as his parents did not speak any Hebrew, but … French, the “lingua franca” of the educated members of the Jewish community,” which was studied in schools of the Alliance Israelite. Alternatively spoken was Ladino, the lingua franca of Sephardi Jews since the late-fifteenth century Spanish expulsion, which would have been the conversational language of Yuda Leon and Rebeka.
The envelopes appear below. All are written in Turkish, with the envelope postmarked May 15, 1944 bearing Turkish postal stamps. Three of the four envelopes are addressed to Victor Chaim’s elder brothers: two to David Danny and one to Isak.
(All images below – with the exception of the first two, both via Geni.com – are via Tony Hananel, for whose work and generosity I want to express my thanks and appreciation.)
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Yuda Leon Hananel, in a photo appearing in a Turkish document – his passport? He died in 1950. (From Geni.com)
The couple’s four sons in 1924: From left to right, David Danny, Victor Chaim, Emil, and Isak.
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Three sons in 1927: Isak, Emil, and Victor Chaim.
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Again in 1927: The four sons.
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Victor Chaim at the age of five in 1927, looking older and wiser than his years.
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Also 1927: Isak and Victor Chaim.
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1928: Yuda Leon and Rebeka with Emil, Isak, Victor Chaim, and David Danny.
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1932 – four years later: Victor Chaim playfully perches atop a pyramid of brothers; Emil is at right.
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The brothers in 1934.
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A pensive Victor Chaim at the age of thirteen, in 1935.
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This is the 16th Century Imperial Edict received by the Hananels and other Jewish families in Budin. If you look very closely (right-click and save…), you’ll see that the text appears as twelve double-lines of elegant, miniscule Arabic script, written as if “rising” from right to left, eventually surmounted by a golden key.
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Here are the four envelopes testifying to Victor Chaim’s all-too-brief life. Sent to the Hananel family by British military authorities in the Yishuv or Cairo, the correspondence which they held has long since been lost, but presumably pertained to inquiries from the Hananel family concerning Victor Chaim’s fate. The address on each envelope is written in Turkish. Two of the envelopes are addressed to the Rehber Shop, a department store in Istanbul of which Yuda Leon was a partner.
Sent from Cairo to the Rehber Shop on March 28, 1944, this envelope was addressed to “Marko Levi, Anafartalar Caddesi. Rehber Tuhafiye Mağazası.Ankara”. The envelope bears no return address.
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“On His Majesty’s Service”: The cancellation mark appears to indicate a date of May 15, 1944. This envelope contained a letter that was sent from the “Combined Local Record Office, (“palestine” Section), M.E.F., Filistin”, to David (Danny Hananel?), at Cicek Pazar in Istanbul. Though I’m entirely unfamiliar with Ottoman or Turkish geography (!), Cicek Pazar might actually be – as described at Wikipedia – “Çiçek Pasajı (Turkish: Flower Passage), originally called the Cité de Péra… a famous historic passage (galleria or arcade) on İstiklal Avenue in the Beyoğlu district of Istanbul, Turkey. A covered arcade with rows of historic cafes, winehouses and restaurants, it connects İstiklal Avenue with Sahne Street and has a side entrance opening onto the Balık Pazarı (Fish Market).”
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Another letter to brother David, though with a different address than before: “c/o Elvaşvili. Fındıklayan Han. Cier Pazor, Istanbul.” But, there’s no return address.
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A fragment of a fragment: Sent from Cairo to the Rehber Shop on an unknown date, this letter is addressed to “Tünel _____ No. 5, Rehber, Zolata, Istanbul”.
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The only direct record of Victor Chaim’s military service in the Yishuv comprises the following four images. Other than his nominal presence in the photos, and, the fact that each picture had (by definition) to have been taken prior to May 1, 1943, each image remains an enigma.
Chaim Victor, holding a cigarette, shakes hands with a friend on a sidewalk overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Given that the men are wearing shorts, perhaps it’s the summer of 1941 or ’42?
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In the next three images, Victor’s attire (long pants – not shorts), the setting, and the angle of the sun’s illumination suggest that the pictures were taken at the same time and place. Given that the seaside railing in the final two images is identical to that in the image above, it would seem that Victor and the other two soldiers took a liking to this coastal location.
Posing with another soldier at a city street….
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,,,and seated with another soldier. Victor’s shirt bears a shoulder-flash with the word “palestine”.
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I think it’s best to conclude with this fine and evocative photo: Victor Chaim, seated on the railing, with the Mediterranean Sea behind him, is looking directly directly at the unknown photographer (a fellow soldier?).
In the early 1940s, Victor Chaim is looking into the future.
Like other casualties aboard the Erinpura, Victor Chaim’s name is memorialized at the Brookwood Memorial in Surrey, England (specifically at Panel 16, Column 3). Being a Jewish soldier from the Yishuv, he’s also commemorated at the Mount Herzl Military Cemetery, specifically at the memorial to those lost in the Erinpura. His name is also engraved in this stone at Mount Herzl, photographed in 1993.
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To conclude, a poem.
Every Man Has a Name (לכל איש יש שם)
Every man has a name Given him by God And given by his father and his mother Every man has a name Given him by his stature and his way of smiling, And given him by his clothes. Every man has a name Given him by the mountains And given him by his walls Every man has a name Given him by the planets And given him by his neighbors Every man has a name Given him by his sins And given him by his longing Every man has a name given him by those who hate him And given him by his love Every man has a name Given him by his holidays And given him by his handiwork Every man has a name Given him by the seasons of the year And given him by his blindness Every man has a name Given him by the sea And given him By his death.
My sincere thanks to Tony Hananel for her time and effort in providing me with information about Victor Chaim and his (her!) family, as well as excellent scans of photographs and documents from the Hananel family collection. This post would not exist without her interest, enthusiasm, and help.
My blog posts visit the past with an eye upon the present, and, this post is no different.
Created in May of 2017 (six years ago … was it that long?!) as part of my ongoing series about Jewish military service and Jewish military casualties in the Second World War, based on articles in The New York Times, it’s now up for a “rewrite”.
The impetus for this post is the Times’ news item of February 11, 1945, about Captain Arthur Henry Bijur of Long Branch, New Jersey. A member of the 43rd Signal Company of the 43rd Infantry Division, he was killed in action on January 14, 1945, near Rosario, Luzon, in the Philippines. Awarded the Purple Heart and Silver Star, his citation for the latter medal was published in the Times on August 22 of the same year, while news about his death in combat appeared in the Daily Record (of Long Branch) on February 13.
Born in Manhattan on February 14, 1919, Captain Bijur’s parents were Nathan Isaac (7/2/75-12/7/69) and Eugenie (Blum) Bijur (4/1/86-2/80); his brothers were Herbert and Lt. William Bijur; his sister was Mrs. Jean Weiss. The National World War Two Memorial Registry includes entries in his honor by Dr. John Wolf (his friend), and, classmate John Liebmann.
This portrait of Captain Bijur is via FindAGrave contributor and Vietnam veteran THR.
Captain Bijur is buried at the Manila American Cemetery, in the Philippines (Plot A, Row 9, Grave 104).
As you can read in the transcript of his obituary, Captain Bijur seems not to have had any direct residential or vocational connection to either Manhattan in particular or the New York Metropolitan area in general. As such, the impetus for the Times news coverage of his death may have been his association with Brown University, and, the Horace Mann School. Well…just an idea.
So, here’s the article of February 11…
Word Received of Death in Action in Philippines
Capt. Arthur Henry Bijur, who served in the Army Signal Corps, was killed in action on Luzon in the Philippines on Jan. 14, according to word from the War Department received Friday by his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Nathan I. Bijur of Long Branch, N.J. He would have been 26 years old on Feb. 14.
Born in New York City, Captain Bijur was an outstanding athlete at the Horace Mann School, winning four major letters. He later attended Brown University, where he was captain of the soccer team. He was graduated from the university in 1941 and enlisted in the Army shortly afterwards.
In March, 1942, he was appointed a second lieutenant and in August was shipped to the Pacific, where he took part in the Munda campaign, and the invasion of New Guinea and the Philippines. Captain Bijur was the recipient of two citations.
In addition to his parents, he is survived by two brothers, Herbert Bijur and Lieut. William Bijur; and a sister, Mrs. Joseph D. Weiss.
This image shows page 30 of The New York Times of February 11, 1945, with Captain Bijur’s obituary at the upper left, set within that day’s War Department (Army, only) Casualty List, which was limited to coverage of the New York Metropolitan area, northern New Jersey, and Connecticut.
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And, here’s his award citation…
POSTHUMOUS AWARD
Silver Star for Captain Bijur of Army Signal Corps
The Silver Star Medal has been awarded posthumously to Capt. Arthur H. Bijur, 242 Bath Avenue, Long Branch, N.J., of the Army Signal Corps for gallantry in action against the Japanese on Luzon. He lost his life when he crawled out of his foxhole to warn his men that enemy fire would soon run through their area. He was killed by an enemy shell shortly after his last warning was given.
Captain Bijur’s citation praises his “keen devotion to duty, loyal consideration for his men and great courage.” He was overseas for thirty-four months with the Forty-Third Division and was in action at Guadalcanal, in the Northern Solomons, in New Guinea and on Luzon.
A memorial plaque honoring Captain Bijur – seen in this image by FindAGrave contributor RPark – can be found at Beth Olom Cemetery, in Ridgewood, Queens, New York.
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Paralleling my other posts about Jewish servicemen who were the subject of news coverage by The New York Times, here’s biographical information about some (not all…) other Jewish servicemen who were casualties on the same January day in 1945. Actually, there’s such a massive amount of information available about the events of this day that another post will cover Jewish aviators in the Eighth Air Force, particularly focusing on the 390th Bomb Group, the entirety of one squadron of which was shot down during the Group’s mission to Derben, Germany.
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For those who lost their lives on this date… Sunday, January 14, 1945 / Tevet 29, 5705 – .ת.נ.צ.ב.ה. – …Tehé Nafshó Tzrurá Bitzrór Haḥayím May his soul be bound up in the bond of everlasting life.
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United States Army
Killed in Action
Benenson, Irving, T/5, 32195917, Bronze Star Medal, Purple Heart, Casualty at Vielsalm, Belgium 3rd Armored Division, 32nd Armored Regiment Casualty List 3/14/45 Born Brantville, Ma., 2/1/17 Mrs. Lillian Benenson (wife), 1659 President St., Brooklyn, N.Y. Mr. and Mrs. Reuben / Ruben J. (2/1/87-1963) and Ray (4/14/90-7/68) Benenson [Witkoff] (parents)), 1767 Union St., Brooklyn, N.Y. Oscar Benenson (brother) Zachary Taylor National Cemetery, Louisville, Ky. – E, 268 (Collective grave with T/5 Dee E. Hobbs) American Jews in World War II – 273
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Chernoff, Alvin S., PFC, 32408380, Purple Heart; Casualty in Belgium (Died of wounds) 11th Armored Division, 55th Armored Infantry Battalion Born New York, N.Y., 1/14/14 Mr. and Mrs. Herbert Louis (5/2/83-7/63) and Florence Rosalind (Danielovich) (4/15/95-9/28/35) Chernoff (parents), 115 W. 86th St., New York, N.Y. Luxembourg American Cemetery, Luxembourg City, Luxembourg – Plot G, Row 11, Grave 19 Casualty List 3/12/45 American Jews in World War II – Not listed
This photo of PFC Chernoff is via FindAGrave contributor pjammetje.
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Coslite, Milton G., S/Sgt., 31051962, Purple Heart 11th Armored Division, 55th Armored Infantry Battalion; Casualty in Belgium Born New York, N.Y., 12/17/18 Mrs. Eva Ginsberg (mother), 2168 63rd St., Brooklyn, N.Y. Luxembourg American Cemetery, Luxembourg City, Luxembourg – Plot C, Row 2, Grave 18 Casualty List 3/13/45 American Jews in World War II – 294
This photo of S/Sgt. Coslite is via FindAGrave contributor Andrew.
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Elpern, Ivan Isadore, 1 Lt., 0-385676, Purple Heart; Casualty in Belgium 6th Armored Division, 50th Armored Infantry Battalion Born Uniontown, Pa., 3/8/17 Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Herman (3/3/86-1/4/41) and Margaret (Goldstone) (4/2/93-6/20/64) Elpern (parents), 101 Central Square, Pittsburgh, Pa. Melvin H. Elpern (brother); Marvin Fortman (cousin) Enlisted 1935 The official Casualty List of the 6th Armored Division (NARA Records Group 407), and Lt. Elpern’s 293 File list his military organization as “6th Armored Division, 50th Armored Infantry Battalion”, but his matzeva displays organization as “28th Infantry Division, 110th Infantry Regiment – 2/17/41-7/19/42” Temple Emanuel Cemetery, Greensburg, Pa. – Section B, Row 25, Lot 2; Buried 12/20/48 Jewish Criterion (Pittsburgh) 9/7/45 The Pittsburgh Press 12/19/48 American Jews in World War II – 518
Ivan’s Elpern’s portrait – below – was published in Pittsburgh’s Jewish Criterion on September 7, 1945, in an extremely detailed – and quite accurate – article commemorating Jewish servicemen from the Pittsburgh metropolitan area who were killed or died during the just-ended war. The article carries brief biographical profiles, and photographs, of 83 servicemen, and lists the names of 32 other servicemen for whom information and images – at the time of publication – were missing. In terms of individual attention, communal memory, and foresight, the Criterion’s effort was as admirable as it was remarkable, for not all Jewish periodicals published such retrospectives.
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Haberer, Martin, Pvt., 32962210, Purple Heart 101st Airborne Division, 327th Glider Infantry Regiment Born Heidelberg, Germany, 2/5/25 Mr. and Mrs. Max and Laura (Wertheimer) Haberer (parents), 3810 Broadway, Apt. 4-A, / 550 West 158th St., New York, N.Y. Long Island National Cemetery, Farmingdale, N.Y. – Section J, Grave 15963 Casualty List 3/13/45 Aufbau 2/16/45 American Jews in World War II – 339
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Levine, Alfred, Pvt., 39015817, Purple Heart 26th Infantry Division, 101st Infantry Regiment Born Los Angeles, Ca., 9/3/16 Mr. and Mrs. Jacob (Zusmanovich) (11/15/80-5/1/71) and Ida S. (5/15/82-7/8/67) Levine (parents), 1427 Levonia Ave., Los Angeles, Ca. Luxembourg American Cemetery, Luxembourg City, Luxembourg – Plot H, Row 5, Grave 12 Casualty List 3/1/45 American Jews in World War II – 48
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Rindsberg, Walter Josef, Pvt., 42071539, Purple Heart 84th Infantry Division, 335th Infantry Regiment Born Germany, 9/20/25 Mr. and Mrs. Harry (Heinreich) (6/22/87-8/39) and Irma (Himmelreich) (12/12/99-2/94) Rindsberg (parents), 44 Bennett Ave., New York, N.Y. Henri-Chapelle American Cemetery, Henri-Chapelle, Belgium – Plot D, Row 7, Grave 8 Casualty List 3/8/45 Aufbau 2/2/45, 2/16/45 American Jews in World War II – 413
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Yusin, Irving, Pvt., 13153939, Purple Heart 11th Armored Division, 21st Armored Infantry Battalion Born New York, N.Y., 4/1/22 Mrs. Celia Yusin (mother), 2853 Barker Ave., New York, N.Y. Wellwood Cemetery, East Farmingdale, N.Y. Casualty List 3/14/45 American Jews in World War II – 476
This image of Private Yusin’s Purple Heart is via FindAGrave contributor John Mercurio.
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On September 20, 1946, the Jewish Criterion published a moving and affecting article by Helen Kantzler entitled “Double Gold Stars”, which reported upon families of American Jewish soldiers who had lost two (and in one case, all three) sons in military service during the Second World War. Aside from the completion and existence of such a story so shortly after the war’s end, was Ms. Kanlster’s level of detail and accuracy, her story probably having been based on information acquired by the National Jewish Welfare Board, and, her own dogged research.
Among the numerous families discussed in her article was that of Max (1873-1/2/29) and Rose (Sankofsky) (1878-9/10/55) Zion, of 3738 East 139th St., in Cleveland, Ohio. Their sons, PFC Morris Jack Zion(35289875) and Aviation Radio Technician 1st Class Joseph Manuel Zion (6153983), both born in Cleveland, were lost within the space of the same January week in 1945. The family also included twin brothers Harry and Robert, and sisters Tillie, Mrs. Mildred Hershman, and Mrs. Sara (Zion) Oriti. Morris and Joseph were members of the approximately fifty American Jewish families who lost both sons during the Second World War. (The Liebfeld family of Milwaukee lost all three sons: Morris (USMC), Samuel (Army Air Force), and Sigmund (also Army Air Force), the latter on a domestic non-combat flight in October of 1945. The brothers are buried at Chesed Shel Emeth Cemetery, in Saint Paul.)
Along with Helen Kantzler’s Jewish Criterion article, the brothers’ names appeared in the Cleveland Press & Plain Dealer on February 2, and can be found on page 504 of American Jews in World War II.
PFC Zion, a member of the 330th Infantry Regiment, 83rd Infantry Division, was born in Cleveland on January 30, 1912. He died of wounds on January 14, 1945, at the age of 33. (Yes, 33.) He’s buried at Henri-Chapelle American Cemetery, at Henri-Chapelle, Belgium, at Plot D, Row 13, Grave 12.
This portrait of Morris is via FindAGrave contributor Patti Johnson, a Volunteer Researcher studying the WW II Army Air Force’s Mediterranean-based 57th Bomb Wing.
Joseph’s picture, displayed below, is also via Patti Johnson.
Born in Cleveland on August 15, 1908, Joseph Manuel was serving in the Navy when he hitched a ride on a JM-1 Marauder (the Navy and Marine Corps version of the Martin B-26 Marauder) of Naval Squadron VJ-16, the tow target and utility services for the Atlantic Fleet in the Florida and Caribbean areas, in January 1945 based at Miami. The bomber, Bureau Number 66724, piloted by Lt. Raymond Paul Mara, Jr. and carrying seven other crew and passengers, crashed at sea 15 miles west of San Juan, Puerto Rico, not long after take-off, from what was suggested to have been engine failure. However, the definitive cause of the bomber’s loss – given the absence of survivors, lack of recovered debris, and nature of 1940s technology – probably could never have been definitively established.
Here are two images of JMs, whose simple overall chrome yellow paint schemes lend them the appearance of winged bananas. It’s my understanding that all JMs were finished similarly, or at least those serving as target tugs.
These two image of JM-1 Marauders are from the flickriver photo collection of torinodave72.
While Joseph Manuel Zion has no grave, his name does appear in the Tablets of the Missing at the East Coast Memorial, in Manhattan.
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Prisoners of War
Private Jack Bornkind (Yakov bar Nachum)(16150444), a member of 1st Battalion, B Company, 274th Infantry Regiment, 70th Infantry Division, was captured on January 14, 1945 and interned as a POW at Stalag 9B, in Bad Orb, Germany. He was one of the 350 American POWs sent from that POW camp to the Berga am Elster slave labor camp as part of Arbeitskommando [labor detail] 625.
The image below, scanned from a paper photocopy, shows the last of the 44 pages comprising the “master” list of the 350 POWs sent to Berga, with six names comprising the final entries. From top to bottom, this page carries the names of Pvt. Alexander Weisberg (survived), Pvt. David Goldin (also survived), PFC Morton D. Brimberg (survived as well; surname changed to “Brooks” partially due to postwar experiences with antisemitism in academia), followed by the names of PFC Stanley Rubenstein, Sgt. Seymour Millstone, and finally Jack Bornkind.
Data fields include the soldier’s German-assigned POW number, surname, first name, date of birth, parent’s surnames, residential address and name of “contact”, Army serial number, and place/date of capture. Ironically, neither the soldier’s religion nor ethnicity are present.
Private Bornkind himself was one of the 76 soldiers who died as a result of their imprisonment at Berga. Of this number, twenty-six men died from the appalling conditions at the camp (one of whom – Pvt. Morton Goldstein – was murdered by camp commander Erwin Metz on March 20, 1945, after an escape attempt), while the remaining fifty succumbed to the forced march of POWs away from the camp, which commenced on April 6. Of these fifty, Jack Bornkind died on the morning of April 23 in the company of a few fellow POWs (among whom was PFC Gerald M. Daub) literally minutes before the group was liberated by either the 11th Armored Division or 90th Infantry Division. Pvt. Bornkind was the very last fatality “of” Berga while the war was still ongoing. Private Aaron Teddy Rosenberg, who survived the ordeal and seemed to have returned to health, took ill not long after his return to the United States, and passed away in his home state of Florida on June 27, 1945, a little over two months after his liberation.
Born in Flint Michigan, on January 31, 1924, Jack Bornkind’s parents were Nathan N. (12/25/79-9/17/52) and Rachel (Handelsman) (1888-7/17/61) Bornkind of 731 East Dartmouth Road, Flint, Michigan, while his sisters and brothers were Bessie, Celia, Hildah, Josephine, Llecca, Louis, and Sarah. He was buried at Beth Olem Cemetery in Hamtramack (Section 3, Plot 344-5) on January 9, 1949, an event mentioned in the Detroit Jewish Chronicle on January 14 of that year. His name can be found on page 188 of American Jews in World War II.
Information about what befell the 350 men assigned to Arbetiskommando [labor detail] 625 is readily available, both in book format and, at numerous websites. (See the 2005 books Soldiers and Slaves : American POWs Trapped by the Nazis’ Final Gamble, by Roger Cohen and Michael Prichard, and, Given Up For Dead : American GIs in the Nazi Concentration Camp at Berga, by Flint Whitlock, and, Charles Guggenheim’s documentary, Berga: Soldiers of Another War.) What’s especially appalling about the story, aside from the brutal treatment of the POWs per se, was how bureaucratic apathy in combination with rapidly changing political alliances in the context of the (first) Cold War rapidly and directly affected, hindered, and ultimately negated efforts to secure justice for the POWs and their families.
The following two images of Jack Bornkind are from the Leibowitz Family Tree at Ancestry.com.
The academic setting of this colorized picture – looks like a college campus, doesn’t it? – together with Private Bornkind’s uniform, suggests that the picture was taken while he was serving in ROTC, or, assigned to the ASTP (Army Specialized Training Program).
This picture is a little more straightforward: In the Army, Private Bornkind is wearing the shoulder sleeve insignia of the Army Service Forces.
This image of Jack Bornkind’s matzeva is via FindAGrave contributor TraceyS.
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Lippin, Robert, PFC, 32974463 26th Infantry Division, 328th Infantry Regiment Stalag 12A (Limburg an der Lahn) Born Boston, Ma., 6/7/23; Died 6/17/84 Mr. Bernard B. and Lillian (Scholl) Lippin (parents), Joseph (brother), 8020 Bay Parkway, Brooklyn, 14, N.Y. NARA RG 242, 190/16/01/01, Entry 279, Box 41. # 96673 American Jews in World War II – Not listed
Though I don’t have a photographic portrait of Robert Lippin, this image of his German Personalkarte, from Records Group 242 in the United States National Archives, will suffice. Though Personalkarte forms include a specific “field” for a prisoner of war’s photograph on the sheet’s left center, the majority of such cards in RG 242 are absent of such images. I think this is reflective of the very large number of American POWs captured during the Ardennes Offensive, and the consequent challenge in “processing” – informationally, that is – such a large number of men. As I recall from examining the original document, the reverse was absent of any notations. Otherwise, I would’ve scanned it.
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Wounded in Action
Alper, Eugene, Pvt., 37642240, Purple Heart; Wounded in Germany Born St. Louis, Mo., 9/7/25; Died 2/19/17 Mr. and Mrs. Nathan (1/12/88-9/67) and Annie (Shoenfeld) (1880-2/58) Alper (parents), 738 Interdrive, University City, St. Louis, Mo. Saint Louis Post Dispatch 2/21/45 American Jews in World War II – 207
Hershfield, Jesse Louis, PFC, 33810667, Purple Heart; Wounded in France Born Albany, N.Y., 3/12/20; Died 4/26/09 Mrs. Lillian (Mantz) Hershfield (wife) Rachelle (daughter), / / 3320 W. Cumberland St. / Philadelphia, Pa. Philadelphia addresses also 2323 North 33rd St. and 3345 Indian Queen Lane, Mrs. Anna Hershfield (mother), 3112 Ridge Ave., Philadelphia, Pa. NJWB card incorrectly gives surname as “Hershfeld” The Jewish Exponent 2/23/45, 3/9/45 Philadelphia Inquirer 2/13/45 Philadelphia Record 2/13/45 American Jews in World War II – 528
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Another Incident…
Schrag, Emil, PFC, 31336965, Medical Corps, Bronze Star Medal 30th Infantry Division, 120th Infantry Regiment Born Baden, Germany, 11/9/24; Died 10/9/03 Mrs. Hilde Dorothee (Schrag) Heimann (sister), New York, N.Y. Mr. and Mrs. Siegfried (5/19/82-?) and Lena Friedericks (Kahn) (7/27/97-6/74) Schrag (parents), 510 W. 184th St., Bridgeport, Ct. Mr. Eugene Kahn (friend), 260 Maplewood Ave., Bridgeport, Ct. Aufbau 2/9/45, 5/4/45 American Jews in World War II – Not Listed
According to Aufbau, Private Schrag was involved in some kind of incident in Germany on January 14, but the details are unknown. He returned to Military Control by April 12.
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United States Army Air Force
Captain Sanford Saul Fineman
2115th Army Air Force Base Unit (Continental United States)
The loss of an RB-24E liberator (the “R” prefix indicating an aircraft utilized for aerial gunnery training) in Alabama on the evening of January 14, 1945, is representative of the near-daily loss of aircraft and airmen on missions – training and otherwise – that did not involve contact with the enemy.
Piloted by Captain Sanford Saul Fineman (Shmuel bar Yaacov Faynman; ASN 0-796353), the aircraft – assigned to the 2115th Army Air Force Base Unit – took off from Courtland Army Airfield, Courtland, Alabama, at 2100 on a routine night training mission. The aircraft, 42-7113, entered the traffic pattern and Captain Fineman radioed the tower for permission to make a touch-and-go landing. He was told to stay in the pattern because of numerous aircraft on end of runway waiting for takeoff, Captain Fineman acknowledging and going around. There were no further communications between the pilot and the tower, and a few moments later, the bomber stalled and crashed in a turn to the left, one mile east of Town Creek, Alabama. There were no survivors.
A veteran of service in the 66th Bomb Squadron of the 44th Bomb Group, Captain Fineman previously received the Distinguished Flying Cross, Air Medal, and five Oak Leaf Clusters. While serving in the 66th, he’s documented as having been a witness to the loss of B-24J 42-99996 (QK * I), piloted by 2 Lt. William M. Richardson (from which there were no survivors) during the 44th Bomb Group’s mission to Langenhagen Airdrome, Germany on April 8, 1944, during which the 44th Bomb Group lost eleven B-24s. The plane’s loss is covered by Missing Air Crew Report 3763, which, due to the chaotic and intense nature of the air battle, simply states, “…that aircraft #996 apparently was hit by enemy aircraft at 1345 hours in the vicinity of Salzwedel and was seen to go down. No chutes were observed. At least five airplanes were lost within the three minutes near 1345 hours from one pass by enemy planes, as described by survivors from the other crews lost.”
The son of Jacob (1/1/84-5/21/29) and Annie (Garfinkle) Fineman (later Harriet) (4/15/85-1/24/50) of 77 Camp Street, Providence, Rhode Island, Sanford Fineman was born on March 25, 1921. He’s buried at Lincoln Park Cemetery, Warwick, R.I. (Section 5C, Lot 1, Left side of Newman Avenue). His name appears on page 562 of American Jews in World War II.
These images of Captain Fineman’s two matzevot are from FindAGrave contributor ddjohnsonri. This image shows Sanford’s simple individual matzeva….
…while in this group matzeva for the Fineman family Captain Fineman’s Hebrew name appears as the first four words on the second line of text. The full English language translation is:
A sweet flower of a boy plucked as a half open bloom. Shmuel bar Yaacov Feinman died 1st of Shvat 5705 – May his soul be bound up in the bond of eternal life. His dear mother, daughter of good people, Hannah Feinman bat Itshak Isaak died 6th of Shvat 5710 – May her soul be bound up in the bond of eternal life.
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1 Lt. Mitchell Earl Nussman
9th Air Force, 323rd Bomb Group, 453rd Bomb Squadron
During a mission to a communication center southeast of St. Vith, Belgium, B-26C Marauder 42-107588, the un-nicknamed VT * R, of the 453rd Bomb Squadron, 323rd Bomb Group, 9th Air Force, was lost due to anti-aircraft fire near St. Vith, as reported in Missing Air Crew Report 11926. The entire crew of seven parachuted from their bomber, but only four men survived: Three were captured and sent to POW camps, the pilot managed to return to Allied military control, and three others (navigator, flight engineer Smith, and aerial gunner) never returned. The Missing Air Crew Report contains no definitive information about the circumstances of their deaths.
Pilot: Adams, Robert H., Capt. – Survived (Killed in a flying accident in Germany on 8/16/45) Co-Pilot / Gee Navigator: Yosick, Jerome S., 1 Lt. – KIA (probably last seen by radio operator Pippin as they were descending in parachutes) Navigator: Burnett, George P., Jr., Capt. – Survived (POW)
Bombardier: Anderson, Warren W., Capt. – Survived (POW) Flight Engineer: Smith, Virgil, T/Sgt. – KIA (last seen attempting to reach American lines in vicinity of Bovigny or Houffalize, Belgium, on 1/18/45) Radio Operator: Pippin, Jack W., T/Sgt. – Survived (POW) Gunner: Prejean, Louis H., S/Sgt. – KIA (last seen attempting to reach American lines in vicinity of Bovigny or Houffalize, Belgium, on 1/18/45)
Anderson, Prejean, and Smith were captured immediately after landing, upon which they were stripped of personal possessions and identification. Taken by their captors in an easterly direction, they managed to escape at 2200 hours the same day: 1/14/45. They then traveled by foot for three days and nights in a westerly direction in attempt to reach American lines. On the evening of 1/17, after reaching a point about 1 ½ miles from American lines, the little group stopped to rest in a foxhole. (By this time, they’d had no food for three days.) At 0430 hours morning of 1/18, shelling by Americans or Germans commenced. Anderson was wounded in the right thigh by artillery fire and could travel no further, and was left to remain in care of a Belgian farmer. Prejean and Smith went on in an attempt to reach American lines. They were never seen again.
Anderson was recaptured by the Germans on 1/19/45 and taken to Germany, where he survived as a POW. The names of all crew members except for Smith and Prejean – even including Capt. Adams – can be found in Luftgaukommando Report KU1268A. (I believe the “A” suffix in Luftgaukommando Reports designates reports covering crews known to have been incompletely accounted for at the time the document was filed, or, for which men were confirmed to have evaded capture.)
A witness to the loss of VT * R was 1 Lt. Mitchel EarlNussman (0-755398), a bomber pilot, whose name appears on page 248 of American Jews in World War II, which indicates that he was awarded theDistinguished Flying Cross, Air Medal, and 12 Oak Leaf Clusters. (His surname is incorrectly listed as “Mussman” at the American Air Museum in Britain’s photo of 42-107588.) He was the husband of Phyllis J. (Tirk) Nussman, of 203 Park Drive, Brookline, Massachusetts, and the son of Jacob (5/21/84-1951) and Minnie (Wolpert) (3/13/94-11/10/56) Nussman, of 389 Bates St., Phillipsburg, New Jersey. Born in Warren (Alpha), New Jersey on September 29, 1921, he passed away on December 7, 1989.
An image of Lt. Nussman’s eyewitness account of the loss of VT * R in MACR 11926 appears below, followed by a transcript of the document:
16 January 1945
CERTIFICATE
The following is a statement by 1st Lt. Mitchell E. Nussman, 0-755398, concerning action taking place on 14 January 1945.
I was flying number three position on the lead ship, number 42-107588, flown by Captain Robert H. Adams. We were proceeding as scheduled to the target at approximately thirteen thousand (13,000) feet when we were encountered by flak. Evasive action was taken by the lead ship, and as his bombay doors opened, we settled down for our bombing run.
Approximately two minutes before time over target, the lead ship released its bomb load. At this time, I saw no outward damage on lead ship. It appeared to be under control and intact. Immediately after the bombs left the ship, I saw three figures bail out and pass from view. These three figures appeared from the rear of the bombay.
Note: Staff Sergeant Michael Dobra, flying as Tail Gunner on my crew, saw those figures pass him, and saw four parachutes open and float earthward.
The lead ship then veered off to the right and dove. At first it appeared out of control, but it then leveled out and flew straight. I followed the snip as it continued out of the flak area, and noticed my compass beading which read zero degrees North. The ship took a definite course for some time and seemed to be well under control. During this time we remained about a quarter of a mile from the distressed ship. I attempted to contact the aircraft by radio, but received no reply.
About six to seven minutes after bombs away, another figure left the ship.
Note: Technical Sergeant C.J. Schmitt noted the time as being 1326 hours and altitude as seven thousand one hundred (7,100) feet.
His parachute opened and the ship started a diving turn to the right.
Note: Both Technical Sergeant Schmitt and Staff Sergeant Dobra saw the ship complete a one hundred eighty (180) degree turn and crash. It exploded and flame burst from the wreckage.
After taking approximate location, we flew back to Base.
Mitchell E. Nussman MITCHELL E. NUSSMAN,
1st Lt., Air Corps,
Pilot.
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Staff Sergeant Harold Schwartz
13th Air Force, 5th Bomb Group, 72nd Bomb Squadron
This image of the 72nd Bomb Squadron insignia is via US Wars Patches.
A casualty in the 72nd Bomb Squadron of the 13th Air Force’s 5th Bomb Group (the “Bomber Barons”) was Staff Sergeant Harold Schwartz (33190448), who was killed during a combat mission over North Maluku, Indonesia. However, being that a Missing Air Crew Report was not actually filed for him (the MACR name index card simply carries the enigmatic notation “No MACR”), the circumstances are – for the moment – unknown, though it can be assumed that he was a radio operator or aerial gunner.
The son of Dr. Martin Schwartz (2/2/93-12/8/41) and Mollie (Spigel) Schwartz (1899-4/18/25), and step-son of Rebecca B. Schwartz, his wartime address was 5420 Connecticut Ave., NW, in Washington, D.C. Born in D.C. on July 12, 1919, he is buried at the Manila American Cemetery, Manila, Philippines (Plot D, Row 8, Grave 162). His name appears on page 80 of American Jews in World War II, with the notation that he was awarded the Air Medal, one Oak Leaf Cluster and Purple Heart, suggesting that he completed between five and ten combat missions.
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Private Edwin G. Elefant
S/Sgt. Morris Backer
20th Air Force, 40th Bomb Group, 44th Bomb Squadron
This image shows a reproduction of the 44th Bomb Squadron’s insignia, via CHMetalcrafts’ ebay store.
The names of Aviation Radio Technician 1st Class Joseph Manuel Zion and Captain Sanford Saul Fineman – lost in rather routine, non-combat circumstances – have been mentioned above. Testifying to the inherently dangerous nature of military activity unrelated to enemy action are two more names: Private Edwin G. Elefant and S/Sgt. Morris Backer, both members of the 44th Bomb Squadron, the former among the nine men killed and the latter among eighteen men injured during an accident that befell the 40th Bomb Group on January 14. Detailed and comprehensive information about this incident, which involved repetitively loading, unloading, and reloading bombs from B-29 bombers at Chakulia, India, can be found in two issues of the 40th Bomb Group Association’s publication Memories: issue 4, and, issue 18.
Rather than “copy and paste” the content of these publications here (there’s a lot there), this introduction and one account will suffice:
Perhaps no event in the history of the 40th Bomb Group is more widely remembered by our members than the tragic bomb-unloading accident in Chakulia, India, on January 14, 1945. Many of us lost friends; we knew a few who laid their lives on the line to help others. The event is seared into our memories as one that shows the best and the worst of war. The accident occurred about noon when a weary armament crew was unloading dangerous M-47 cluster bombs from B-29 42-24582 [“Little Clambert” / “S”] in the 44th Bomb Squadron.
Neil W. Wemple was appointed Commander of the 44th Squadron on January 11, 1945, three days before the tragic accident. His observations (written 1982):
My beginning as a new Squadron Commander was highly ignominious and inglorious to say the least. Within three days of my appointment as Commander, the squadron had suffered what was to be the worst one-day disaster of its history from the standpoint of B-29s destroyed, and worse yet it was self inflicted.
It happened like this: We had been ordered to prepare for a bombing mission, possibly the one that was to take place January 17 against Formosa, first staging through our forward base near Chengtu, China, known as A-1. An operations order from higher HQ called for 500-pound fragmentation bombs. The operations officer, Major Eigenmann, directed this loading and it was done. Then we received an operations order amendment to change the bomb loading to 500-pound general purpose demolition bombs; we did this. Soon afterward we received another amendment to down load the demos and reload the frags again.
By now we were definitely wearing out the bombs and, worse than that, the men. After we reloaded the frags, guess what. You guessed it. We were ordered to down load the frags and reload the demos! At this point the Armament Officer, Capt. Redler, came in to see me. He protested, saying his men were very tired. Much conversation ensued with the Operations Officer also present. In the end Capt. Redler was ordered to make the fourth change in bomb loading. Otherwise the planes would not be ready in time for the forthcoming mission. He departed disappointed, tired, exasperated. The downloading of the frag bombs began. All of this uploading and downloading of bombs brings to light the incompetence and inefficiency of higher HQ. Unfortunately this was recognized only belatedly and a limitation was eventually placed upon the number of load changes within a given period of time.
That same day I was attending to squadron administrative duties at the squadron headquarters and orderly room when I heard what I knew to be a muffled, but large and ominous, explosion. It seemed to come from the B-29 parking area. I ran to my jeep, jumped in and drove fast to the flight line. As I arrived it seemed that a major conflagration of several B-29s was in progress, and it was in my squadron area! Additional explosions had occurred as I was driving to the area. Everything was in total disorder. B-29s were on fire, and some explosions occurred after my arrival. People were running around in all directions. I did not arrive in time to see or assist in the rescue of the first victims. Fire trucks were fighting the fires, but as I remember there were not many ambulances remaining on the scene. From there on it was a matter of fighting fires, mopping up and, the sad and worst part, the hospital visits and writing those letters of condolence to next of kin.
These images of the bomb loading accident at Chakulia are from 40th Bombardment Group: A Pictorial Record.
From the Al Schutte collection at the 40th Bomb Group Association, this image shows the wrecked tail section of B-29 42-24582 “Little Clambert”, the only recognizable portion of the aircraft remaining after the explosions. In the background is the still intact B-29 42-63394“Last Resort” / “R”, so badly damaged as to have been written off after the accident.
Two more images from 40th Bombardment Group: A Pictorial Record: The upper photo shows an unexploded fragmentation bomb, while the lower image shows a funeral for one of the nine fatalities of January 14.
This portrait of Cp. Schumacher is via FindAGrave contributor DB6654.
(Fr. Bartholomew Adler, chaplain of the 40th Group, was on the line immediately after the explosion. His account (written 1982): “Cpl. Aloysius M. Schumacher was quite a man. Later that dreadful Sunday afternoon I found him at the Base Hospital, clutching his stomach where he had been struck by shrapnel, telling the medics to take care of another buddy of his, Pvt. Edwin Elefant, whom he considered was more seriously wounded than he. Pvt. Elefant died later that night. Cpl. Schumacher died the next day.” [Actually, 1/22/45])
Though Pvt. Elefant (32785359) survived the initial explosion, he died of injuries the evening of the 14th, two days before his 21st birthday. The son of Nathan (12/25/88-10/21/67) and Anna (4/8/99-2/14/82) Elefant, his family resided at 1516 Carroll St., in Brooklyn. Born on January 16, 1924, he is buried at Mount Hebron Cemetery, in Flushing, N.Y. (Block 4, Reference 1, Section A-C, Line 11L, Grave 3). His name can be found on page 302 of American Jews in World War II.
Among the wounded survivors of the explosion was Staff Sergeant Morris Backer (11050380), who received the Soldier’s Medal, among the nine men awarded for their actions that day. His citation reads: “When a bomb explosion occurred in the aircraft on which he was working, [42-24582] S/Sgt. Backer, with no thought for his personal safety, immediately attempted to rescue those who had been seriously injured. He was successful in removing a seriously injured man who was lying alongside the rear bomb bay, where the explosion took place. He removed the injured man beyond the tail of the aircraft and remained with him until a stretcher bearer arrived and helped carry him to an adjacent ambulance. During this time a series of explosions of gas tanks, bombs and ammunition occurred and S/Sgt. Backer was wounded in the left thigh.”
The only son of Jacob (1888-5/6/59) and Ida (1890-10/18/45) Backer (his sisters were Anne, Celia, Pauline, and Tilly) of 141 Homestead Street, Roxbury, Massachusetts, Sgt. Backer was born in that state on December 28, 1919. He passed away on May 4, 2011, and is buried at the Independent Pride of Boston Cemetery, in West Roxbury. His name is absent from American Jews in World War II.
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1 Lt. Jack Robert Ehrenberg
20th Air Force, 497th Bomb Group, 869th Bomb Squadron
This image of the 869th Bomb Squadron insignia was found at Pinterest.
Several (many?!) of my posts include information about airmen who served as crew members of the Boeing B-29 Superfortress very heavy bomber, typically in the case of men who were lost of combat missions.
However, among these men are a tiny few who survived the loss of their aircraft, whether as POWs of the Japanese (2 Lt. Irving S. Newman), or, over the vast expanses of the Pacific Ocean, the latter by parachuting from mortally damaged aircraft (such as F/OAldywn W. Fields), or, after their bombers were ditched (such as Capt. Bertram G. Lynch). Another man who survived the ditching of his B-29 was Jack Ehrenberg, a crew member of the B-29 Pacific Union. Of the eleven men aboard this aircraft, only four survived; of the four, one man was captured on a subsequent combat mission, and murdered while a prisoner of war, less than one month before the war’s end.
A navigator, 1 Lt. Jack Robert Ehrenberg (0-793992) and his crew were members of the 869th Bomb Squadron of the 497th Bomb Group. His wife was Norma Constance (Loeb) Ehrenberg, who resided at 250 Passaic Ave., in Passaic, New Jersey. Jack’s parents were Michael (1886-?) and Anna (Saltz) (9/20/87-1976) Ehrenberg, at 462 Brook Ave.; also Passaic. Born in a place called Brooklyn on November 30, 1917, Jack passed away on May 12, 2005. Listed on page 231 of American Jews in World War II, he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, Air Medal with three Oak Leaf Clusters (suggesting that he completed between 15 and 20 combat missions), and, Purple Heart. His name also appeared in War Department news releases on September 10, 1943, and March 22, 1945.
The incident in question – the loss of Pacific Union (42-24595, “A square 2”) – is covered in Missing Air Crew Report 11221, which, like some other MACRs pertaining to B-29 ditchings (at least, those of the 73rd Bomb Wing) and eventuated in the survival and rescue of crew members, incorporates a detailed report about the events behind and circumstances of the plane’s ditching, the escape of survivors from the plane, aspects of their survival and rescue, their suggestions for other crews faced with such situations in the future, and, comments and criticisms specifically pertaining to the loss of their plane, and, their crew’s actions. The report concludes with a really (really!) lengthy distribution list.
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Before 42-24595 became the Pacific Union – notice the absence of nose art in this image? – the aircraft was photographed while flying near Mount Fuji, in the company of other 497th Bomb Group B-29s. This photo is from the 869th Bomb Squadron Scrapbook, via the 497th Bomb Group B-29 Memorial website, which contains histories of all 869th BS B-29s. There, the image appears on page 35, where it’s appropriately titled “A-2 Over Fujiyama”.
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This image of December 5, 1944, showing the Pacific Union’s nose art, is from WorldWarPhotos.
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What happened?
The bomber, en-route with the 497th Bomb Group to Nagoya, experienced heavy smoke of unknown origin coming from its #3 engine. When it became apparent that the aircraft couldn’t continue the mission, Captain Leonard Cox dropped out of the 497th’s formation and began a return to Saipan. After it was decided that it would be necessary to ditch the bomber, the aircraft’s bombs were toggled out individually, exploding as they struck the sea. The bomber by this time having descended to 900 feet, its wings and fuselage were struck by fragments from the bombs, and, a fire developed in the #3 engine and right wheel well. The fire could not be extinguished, and spread rapidly.
But at this point, there was insufficient time for the crew to prepare for ditching.
All emergency exits were jettisoned from the front crew compartment, and, the men in that section of the fuselage braced themselves for the impending impact with the sea – some as best they could; some not well enough. Lt. Erenberg remained at his crew position, and leaning over his desk, padded his abdomen with his parachute, at the same time giving the plane’s course, position, and ground speed to the radio operator, though he never knew if this information was actually transmitted. The men in the rear fuselage received no communication concerning the planned ditching and so were not braced properly for impact. In any event, they were forced to crowd against the port side of the fuselage, since the starboard side was too hot as a result of the fire, with the right gunner’s sighting blister becoming enveloped in flames, and flames also present in the rear unpressurized section of the fuselage.
The aircraft struck the sea at an estimated speed of 140 mph, impacting tail first. Afterwards, Lt. Erenberg stated that he believed an explosion occurred in the mid-wing section at about the moment Pacific Union hit the water. He then lost consciousness and – subsequently unaware of how he actually escaped – had no memory of any event until he found himself floating in the sea, still strapped to his seat.
These three Oogle Maps show the approximate location of the Pacific Union’s Central Pacific ditching (17-58 N, 144-03E) at successively larger scales. The Northern Marianas were approximately 216 miles to the southeast, while Agrihan Island (unlabeled, best visible in the lowermost map) is about 108 miles to the east. Very much water, very little land.
Moving closer…
…and closer.
After the bomber’s motion stopped, it was realized that the ditched aircraft had broken in two, and what remained of the front fuselage was engulfed in flames. The four crewmen in the rear fuselage exited through the escape hatch in what remained of the rear unpressurized section, bringing with them two one-man life rafts. This action was both miraculous and very smartly planned, for the bomber’s two multi-place life rafts (stored in compartments in the upper section of the mid-fuselage), with full provisions and survival gear, were lost or destroyed in the ditching.
All survivors were burned as they swam away from the wreckage, with S/Sgt. George E. Wright and Lt. Erenberg suffering multiple lacerations, and the Lieutenant also having multiple fractures in both hands. The radar operator, S/Sgt. William W. Roberts, also escaped from the tail section, but was seen only once and could not be rescued in time. S/Sgt. William P. Stovall (probably the least severely injured, based on his 1996 obituary) secured the two one-man life rafts, placing Sgt. Lawrence W. Beecroft in one and S/Sgt. Wright in another, eventually – with very great difficulty – lashing the two rafts together. Though the MACR is ambiguous on this point, it seems (?) that S/Sgt. Stovall and the other crewmen somehow placed Lt. Erenberg in (or upon?) the two rafts, with Stovall and Beecroft administering first aid as best they could to the navigator and right gunner, with the limited medical supplies on hand.
The two rafts were first spotted by Lt. Colonel Douglas C. Northrop (killed in action April 27, 1945, uponbailing out over Agrihan Island), Squadron Commander of the 877th Bomb Squadron, who circled the rafts until the arrival of a “Dumbo” air-sea rescue B-17G. The Dumbo dropped a raft and emergency equipment, but the raft was faulty and could not be inflated (? – !) and as a result, the survivors couldn’t retrieve most of the survival gear. Nevertheless, the Dumbo circled the men until about 1830K, when a destroyer arrived and rescued the four men. They had been in the water for over twelve hours.
Further information about the loss of Pacific Union can be found in the essay The Ditching of Lt. McGregor’s B-29 Crew – 23 January 1945, where it’s stated, “… Capt. L.L. Cox and crew of A Square 2, 869 Squadron had to abort the mission less than an hour out of Saipan, due to a malfunctioning engine. As Cox left the loose formation to return to base, he dropped down about 300 feet and salvoed his bombs. It was established later that the bombardier had apparently pulled the pins on the bombs before takeoff; consequently they went off when they hit the water. Since Cox’s ship was directly above the explosions, the bomb blasts caused the aircraft to crash. All but 4 members were killed and when those four were rescued, two were so badly injured and burned that they were returned to the U.S. immediately. This incident was included as part of the 73rd Bomb Wing debriefing after that mission, and directive was published warning all bombardiers not to pull the pins on the bombs until an altitude of at least 5000 feet had been reached.”
Notably, the MACR gives the B-29s altitude at the moment when it was struck by fragments from its own bombs as 900 feet, versus 300 feet in McGregor’s account. Similarly, the MACR doesn’t make any reference to the bombs having been armed prior to being jettisoned. The crewmen returned to the United States for medical treatment were Jack Ehrenberg and almost certainly George E. Wright.
You can download and read a verbatim transcript of the report about the crew’s ditching here.
A photo of the Cox crew can be found at the FindAGrave biographical profile of William P. Stovall, one of the Pacific Union’s four survivors. The image was uploaded by Sam Pennartz, who has contributed much biographical information about veterans and military casualties to FindAGrave, and, the National WW II Memorial. The men’s names are listed below the photo.
Here’s the same photo, as printed in a halftone format in The Long Haul: The Story of the 497th Bomb Group (VH). Like all crew photos in that book, the only text associated with the image is the crew commander’s name, all other crewmen being anonymous. Then again, even the identity of the crew commander (front row? back row? far left? kneeling? far right?) isn’t actually specified for any image.
Prior to being assigned to the 497th Bomb Group, Captain Cox was a First Lieutenant in the 324th Bomb Squadron of the 91st Bomb Group (8th Air Force), in which he piloted B-17F 42-29921, Oklahoma Okie. The picture showing Lt. Cox and Okie is Army Air Force photograph 79288AC / A12688, and was taken at Bassingbourne, England, on June 16, 1943.
William P. Stovall, born in 1918, died in 1996 at the age of 77. According to his obituary in The Independent-Record (of Helena, Montana) of March 3 1996, he was the only crew member of the Pacific Union who was uninjured in the plane’s ditching; he ultimately completed approximately 25 missions.
Sgt. Beecroft was infinitely less fortunate. Eventually having recovered from his injuries, he resumed combat flying. Almost six months later, he was shot down during the Osaka mission of June 1, 1945, while flying in the crew of 1 Lt. Franklin W. Crowe aboard B-29 42-65348 (A square 16). Seven of the plane’s eleven crew members were killed in the bomber’s crash (at the foot of Mount Sanjogadake, in the Omine Mountains, Tenkawa-mura, Yoshino-gun, Nara-ken), and four were captured. The latter were Sgt. Beecroft, Central Fire Control Gunner M/Sgt. Alvin R. Hart, Bombardier 1 Lt. Harrison K. Wittee, and Radar Operator S/Sgt. Russell W. Strong. As immediately evident from biographical information at FindAGrave, as well as Doug’s extensive research and documentation concerning the 497th Bomb Group, and, 73rd Bomb Wing aviators who were captured by the Japanese, none of the four survived: They were murdered before the war’s end.
Though not the immediate subject of this post, the awful fate of those four survivors of A square 16 pertains to the larger topic of the fate of Allied POWs of the Japanese in general, and the that of Allied aviators in Japanese captivity, in particular. There’s an enormous (perhaps incalculably large?) body of historical information and literature on this topic, in print, on the Internet, in historical repositories such as the United States National Archives, and certainly in unpublished format among the personal records and memorabilia of the descendants of WW II servicemen. Suffice to say that while several hundred Allied aviator POWs did survive Japanese captivity, a very significant proportion of men who were initially captured and could have survived, did not.
This portrait of Sgt. Beecroft – as a Corporal – is by FindAGrave contributor William Duffy.
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Lieutenant (JG) Milton Harold Thuna
United States Navy, Patrol Bomber Squadron VPB-110
Paralleling the loss of Captain Fineman and Private Elefant in incidents unrelated to enemy activity, Navy Lieutenant (JG) Milton Harold Thuna (0-145553), a co-pilot, was killed in yet another non-combat aviation accident. The incident involved a PB4Y-1 Liberator (Bureau Number 63944) of Patrol Bomber Squadron 110 (VPB-110) in North Africa.
This image (via pinterest) is a very good representative view of a PB4Y-1.
As described at VPNavy.com (from on November 22, 2001) the aircraft , “…took off from Marrakech, French Morocco, on a ferry flight to Dakar, Senegal. No radio contact was made by plane after leaving vicinity of Marrakech Airport. At about 0900 GMT, Arab natives saw the plane break through the overcast at 2000 ft, in a shallow normal glide in vicinity of Tazmint, French Morocco. Witnesses reported the engines were not functioning properly. Shortly after becoming visible, the plane was seen to catch fire and explode, detaching pieces of the aircraft. It was seen to go out of control immediately following the explosion. Examination of the wreckage at the scene of the crash showed that the portion of the port wing outboard of the aileron became detached in the air, landing three-hundred yards from the main body of the wreck. It was also found that the plane’s rudders and vertical tail surfaces became detached in the air, being found in an area approximately three-hundred yards from the main body of the wreck.”
Besides Lt. Thuna, the bomber’s crew comprised:
Pilot: Lt Ralph David Spalding, Jr. Ensign Milo Junior Jones AOM 2C James Thomas Hagedorn ARM 2C Norman H. Lowrey ARM 1C F.W. Riffe AOM 3C Robert W. Baker AMMF 3C Frank Andrew Lutz AMM 2C Milford Dewitt Merritt ARM 3C E.M. Lingar AOM(T) 3C William E. Burns
Born in Brooklyn, New York on March 22, 1918, Lt. Thuna was the son of Helena Mendelsohn (11/9/88-11/13/74), who resided a 106-24 97th Street in Ozone Park. The origin of his surname is unknown. Perhaps it was that of his father, who I’ve thus far been unable to identify. The lieutenant is buried with six of his fellow crew members at Arlington National Cemetery, in Grave 16, Section 15. News articles about Lt. Thuna appeared in The Leader-Observer on 5/21/42, 3/11/43, 3/25/43, The New York Sun on 2/19/45, and The Record 2/22/45, while his name can be found on page 461 of American Jews in World War II.
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Soviet Union / U.S.S.R. (C.C.C.Р.) Red Army [РККА (Рабоче-крестьянская Красная армия)]
Bargman, Solomon Semenovich (Баргман, Соломон Семенович), Guards Junior Lieutenant (Гвардии Младший Лейтенант) Machine Gun Platoon Commander (Командир Пулеметного Взвода) 16th Guards Mechanized Brigade Born 1924 Killed in Action
Gofman, Aleksandr Volfovich (Гофман, Александр Вольфович), Sergeant (Сержант) Armor (Radio Operator – Gunner) (Радист-Пулеметчик) – T-34 68th Tank Brigade Born 1924, city of Korets, Rovenskiy Raion Killed in Action Buried in Poland
Kofman, Shalim Shavelevich (Кофман, Шальим Шавельевич), Lieutenant (Лейтенант) Rifle Company Commander (Командир Стрелковой Роты) 449th Rifle Regiment, 144th Rifle Division Killed in Action Born 1909
Layzer, Peresh Yakovlevich (Лайзер, Переш Яковлевич), Private (Рядовой) Armor (Miner) (Минер) 32nd Tank Brigade Born 1914, Struzhenskiy Raion Died of wounds (умер от ран) at Mobile Surgical Field Hospital 492 (Хирурический Полевой Подвижной Госпиталь 492) Buried in Hungary
Lev, Naum Aronovich (Лев, Наум Аронович), Captain (Капитан) Chief, 1st Headquarters Staff (Начальник 1 Отделения Штаба) 5th Mountain Rifle Brigade Born 1918 Killed in Action
Matskin, Volf Abramovich (Мацкин, Вольф Абрамович) Senior Lieutenant (Старший Лейтенант) Rifle Platoon Commander (Командир Стрелкового Взвода) 314th Rifle Regiment, 46th Rifle Division Born 1912 Killed in Action
Mikheylis, Yooriy Aleksandrovich (Михейлис, Юрий Александрович), Senior Lieutenant (Старший Лейтенант) Machine Gun Company Commander (Командир Роты Автоматчиков) 216th Guards Rifle Regiment, 79th Guards Rifle Division Killed in Action Born 1924 Nirkis, Meer Ayzikovich (Ниркис, Меер Айзикович) Lieutenant (Лейтенант) Rifle Platoon Commander (Командир Стрелкового Взвода) 1210th Rifle Regiment, 362nd Rifle Division Born 1916 Killed in Action Presman, Semen Alekseevich (Пресман, Семен Алексеевич) Junior Lieutenant (Младший Лейтенант) Rifle Platoon Commander (Командир Стрелкового Взвода) 717th Rifle Regiment, 170th Rifle Division Born 1922 Killed in Action Segelman, Moisey Abramovich (Сегельман, Моисей Абрамович), Guards Major (Гвардии Майор) Deputy Chief of Staff, also, Chief of Headquarters Operational Intelligence (Заместитель Начальника Штаба он-же Начальник Оперативного Разведывательного Отдела Штаба) 2nd Guards Motorized Assault Engineer-Sapper Brigade Born 1917, city of Tomsk Killed in Action Buried in Lithuania
Shlafman, Girgoriy Khaskelevich (Шлафман, Григорий Хаскелевич), Guards Lieutenant (Гвардии Лейтенант) Machine Gun Platoon Commander (Командир Пулеметного Взвода) 265th Guards Rifle Regiment, 86th Guards Rifle Division Killed in Action Born 1924 Shmidberg, Arkadiy Nikolaevich (Шмидберг, Аркадий Николаевич), Guards Senior Sergeant (Гвардии Старший Сержант) Armor (Gun Charger) (Заряжающий) – T-34 213th Autonomous Tank Brigade Born 1910, city of Tulya Killed in Action Buried in East Prussia
Slutsker, Abram Lazarevich (Слуцкер, Абрам Лазаревич), Lieutenant (Лейтенант) Machine Gun Platoon Commander (Командир Пулеметного Взвода) 187th Guards Rifle Regiment, 47th Guards Rifle Division Died of Wounds Born 1925
Tsap, Abram Lvovich (Цап, Абрам Львович), Captain (Капитан) Political Agitator (Агитатор) 216th Guards Rifle Regiment, 79th Guards Rifle Division, 8th Guards Army Killed in Action Born 1902 Vanshteyn / Vaynshteyn, Veniamin Abramovich (Ванштейн/ Вайнштейн, Вениамин Абрамович), Lieutenant (Лейтенант) Rifle Platoon Commander (Командир Стрелкового Взвода) 291st Rifle Regiment, 63rd Rifle Division Born 1904 Killed in Action Yakuboshvili, Lev Mototeevich (Якубошвили, Лев Мототеевич), Senior Sergeant (Старший Сержант) Armor (Gun Commander) (Командир Орудия) – T-34 213th Autonomous Tank Brigade Born 1925, city of Baku Killed in Action Buried in East Prussia
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Canada
Flight Officer Joseph Klatman
Royal Canadian Air Force, Number 1666 Heavy Conversion Unit
Flight Officer Joseph Klatman (J/39890), a navigator serving in No. 1666 Heavy Conversion Unit, Royal Air Force, was lost with his six fellow crewmen (all members of the RCAF) when their bomber, Lancaster I HK756, piloted by eighteen year old Flight Officer Victor Robert Adams, vanished during a “Sweepstake” mission on the evening of January 14-15, 1945. As described on page 156 of W.R. Chorley’s Bomber Command Losses (covering Heavy Conversion Units, and, Miscellaneous Units), the aircraft, took off, “…from Wombleton as part of a force of one hundred and twenty-six aircraft, drawn from the training units, ordered to sweep across the North Sea in the hope of luring the Luftwaffe into the air. Lost without trace.”
This document, from F/O Klatman’s Service File, found in “World War II Records and Service Files of War Dead (Canada), 1939-1947”, at Ancestry.com (not a plug; just stating the source), dated September 30, 1947, summarizes the extent of information available concerning the loss of Lancaster HK756: In effect and reality, none … whether in 1947 or 2023.
Bomber Command Losses notes that, “…F/O Adams RCAF was amongst the youngest bomber pilots to lose his life in the Second World War.” His RCAF Service File reveals that he was born in England on May 23, 1925.
Akin to all crew members of HK756, a letter verifying their son’s missing in action status was sent to F/O Klatman’s next of kin – in this case, his parents – by Squadron Leader Lewington at RCAF Station Wombleton. (Spelling uncertain.)
Born in Blati, Romania, on August 13, 1923, Joseph was the son of Samuel (1892-9/8/70) and Tuba “Toby” (Tipleatsky / Teplitzky) (1895-5/8/33) Klatman, and brother of Pearl, the family residing at 23 Brunswick Ave. in Toronto, Ontario. His civilian occupation prior to entering the RCAF was “shipper”.
These two photographic portraits of F/O Klatman are also present in his Service File. A review of Service Files shows that such images are typically – but not always! – found in Service Files for aviators, but rarely in Files for non-commissioned officers.
The upper photo was taken on February 17, 1943, but the lower photo is undated.
F/O Klatman’s name is commemorated on Panel 279 of the Runnymede Memorial, in Surrey, England, while his biography is found on page 40 of Part II of Canadian Jews in World War Two.
On the ground…
Private Leo Smith (Shomomenko)
Loyal Edmonton Regiment
Born in Gomel, Belarus, on September 21, 1918; a cleaner and presser in civilian life, Private Leo Smith (original surname Shomomenko), M/11468, died of wounds in Italy while serving in the Loyal Edmonton Regiment. He and his wife, Columba Gallina Smith (7/20/18-9/09), resided at 1117-5th Ave., in Calgary, Alberta, with their daughter Sylvia Susan, who was born on January 28, 1940. His parents were Abraham (12/10/98-5/8/91) and Rose (Kagansky) (7/17/99-9/21/82) Smith, his brother Allan, and his sisters Mary Gofsky and Pauline (a.k.a. “Polly”).
Pvt. Smith is buried at the Argenta Gap War Cemetery, at Ferrara, Italy (IV,E,12). His very brief biography appears on page 73 of Part II of Canadian Jews in World War Two.
Private Smith’s biographical profile at FindAGrave.com includes a transcript of a news article from The Calgary Herald of January 25, 1945, which concludes upon the statement, “A short time ago, Pte. Smith had cabled home that he was due to receive leave and expected to be home for the first time in nearly five years,” paralleling Canadian Jews in World War Two, which states, “A veteran of four and one-half years overseas, he was killed a few days before he was scheduled to return home on leave.” Neither the newspaper article nor Canadian Jews in World War Two could have elaborated upon the impetus for Pvt. Smith’s anticipated return to Canada, for this information was unknown to the public. However, with the passage of time, the advent of the internet, and the accessibility of World War II Records and Service Files of Canadian War Dead at Ancestry.com, more – much more, about a family during wartime – is revealed.
It turns out that Private Smith requested leave to visit his family, the result of a letter from his sister Polly of November 7, 1944. The original letter – probably having been returned to Pvt. Smith – is absent from the File, a verbatim transcript taking its place. Therein, Polly succinctly, frankly, and compellingly describes the effects of Leo’s absence upon his mother, daughter, and wife, notably (this is as revealing as it’s unsurprising, given the passage of almost five years of military service) intimating that her brother’s long absence had affected his marriage to Columba, suggesting that their marriage may have been under strain prior to his enlistment in the army. The letter is persuasive, poignant (very poignant), and powerful, and seems to have been compelling enough for the Canadian military to grant leave to Private Smith.
In a war of innumerable tragedies and countless ironies (but is that not so of all wars?), his return to his wife and family – to have taken place in early in 1945 – would never happen.
Time has passed. Private Smith’s parents, Abraham and Rose, passed away in 1991 and 1982, respectively; his wife Columba Smith in 2009. His daughter Sylvia Susan, four years old when her aunt Polly composed the letter to her father, would now in the year 2023 be eighty-three years old.
Here’s an image of the letter, from his Service File, followed by a transcript:
Nov 7/44 1610 – Scotland St. Calgary
Dear Leo:
We received your air-mail letter to-day and I was sure happy to hear from you.
Leo dear, you must come home, there’s so much you must know. Mother is very ill and many a morning she can’t get out of bed. The doctor’s in the city don’t know what is wrong with her. She has been to every doctor and there is no cure, so we do not know how long she will hold out. The only thing she wants now is to see you home again and if you were to try to come home, she would have something to live for. But now she has nothing. She says for you to try to come home as soon as you can.
Sylvia does not quit talking about you every day and is waiting for the day her daddy is coming home. Edna’s husband is coming home this week and Betty Anne doesn’t quit talking about him and Sylvia wants to know when her daddy is coming home.
It is true of course that Columba has gone through very much but the only thing stopping her from telling you to come back is her pride. But she’s told me she still loves you. Leo, you just have to come back home and as soon as possible. Mother won’t last much longer if she hasn’t get to see you soon. For Mother’s and Dad’s and Sylvia’s sake you must come home. Leo dear, please try your hardest.
You may think these are big words for a little girl but I’m more grown up than Mary.
I am leaving for New York to the University June the end of June and hope to see you before I leave because I hardly know you. Please try to come home soon as I can’t stand seeing Mother going to pieces.
Love, Polly
Mother sends all her love to you
Certified this is a true copy of a letter dated 7 Nov 44 received by the petitioner from his sister, Polly, 1610 Scotland St., Calgary Alta.
Burkett, Prentice “Mick”, The Unofficial History of the 499th Bomb Group (VH), Historical Aviation Album, Temple City, Ca., 1981
Chorley, W.R., Royal Air Force Bomber Command Losses – Heavy Conversion Units and Miscellaneous Units, 1939-1947 (Volume 8), Midland Publishing, Hinckley, England, 2003
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
Lundy, Will, 44th Bomb Group Roll of Honor and Casualties, 1987, 2004 (via Green Harbor Publications)
Mireles, Anthony J., Fatal Army Air Forces Aviation Accidents in the United States, 1941-1945 – Volume 3: August 1944 – December 1945, McFarland & Company Inc., Publishers, Jefferson, N.C., 2006
Morris, Henry, Edited by Gerald Smith, We Will Remember Them – A Record of the Jews Who Died in the Armed Forces of the Crown 1939 – 1945, Brassey’s, United Kingdom, London, 1989
Swanborough, Gordon, and Bowers, Peter M., United States Navy Aircraft Since 1911, Funk & Wagnals, New York, N.Y., 1968
Canadian Jews in World War II – Part II: Casualties, Canadian Jewish Congress, Montreal, Quebec, Canada, 1948
The Long Haul : The Story of the 497th Bomb Group (VH), Newsfoto Pub. Co., San Angelo, Tx., 1947
40th Bombardment Group: A pictorial record of events, places, and people in India, China and Tinian from April 1944 through October 1945. Included are a few aerial views of Nippon, Singapore, Formosa and other exotic, far-off places, Newsfoto Pub. Co., San Angelo, Tx., 1945 (via Bangor Public Library)
Acknowledgment
Special thanks to Ari Dale for her translation of the inscription on Captain Sanford S. Fineman’s matzeva: “Thanks, Ari!”
Websites
The B-26 Marauder in US Navy and Marine Corps Service, at B26.com
It’s time that I returned to the “Times”. The New York Times, that is…
And so, here’s the latest post in my ongoing series covering the military service and participation of Jewish soldiers during the Second World War, based on news items published in The New York Times through the duration of that global conflict.
As such, this is (~ about ~) my fortieth post in the series.
Otherwise, a different angle: It’s my third post about Jewish-servicemen-in-The-New-York-Times – who, though they were the subjects of news articles published on different calendar days … in this case, Sgt. David Snider on March 4, 1945, and, Second Lieutenant Maurice David Kraus on March 8 of that same year … lost their lives on the same day: Tuesday, February 6, 1945. (Shevat 23, 5705) The prior two posts in this regard concerned Second Lieutenant Arthur Chasen and Sergeant Alfred R. Friedlander (December 23, 1944), and, Captain Paul Kamen, PFC Donald R. Lindheim, and PFC Arthur N. Sloan (April 20, 1945).
This post is unusual from another angle: Sergeant Snider was a Marine. Thus far, my only posts concerning Jews in the Marine Corps pertain to WW II Captain Howard K. Goodman, and, PFC Richard E. Marks, who served in Vietnam.
As before, this retrospective follows the same general format of my other “Jewish-soldiers-in-The-New-York-Times” posts. However, being that there’s such an abundance of information about the events of “this” day – February 6 of ’45 – I’m presenting information about these soldiers in two posts.
“This” post covers aviators.
A second post pertains to soldiers who served in the ground forces of the Allied Armies.
May his soul be bound up in the bond of everlasting life.
________________________________________
Second Lieutenant Maurice David Kraus
United States Army Air Force
5th Air Force
5th Air Service Area Command
On Thursday, March 8, 1945, the following news item appeared in The New York Times:
Bomber Navigator Dead After a Crash on Leyte
The War Department has notified Mrs. Mary Braunstein Kraus of 482 Fort Washington Avenue that her son, Second Lieut. Maurice D. Kraus, 22 years old, a bomber navigator in the Army Air Forces, was killed Feb. 6 on Leyte in an accidental airplane crash. Lieutenant Kraus had flown thirty-one missions in the Southwest Pacific.
Born in New York City, Lieutenant Kraus was graduates from Townsend Harris High School and was a student at City College in 1942 when he joined the Army. He had been overseas since 1943.
In addition to his mother he leaves his father, Abraham Kraus, who is in the millinery and novelty business, and a sister, Miss Jean Kraus, both of the Fort Washington Avenue address. Miss Kraus is a Barnard College student.
Lieutenant Maurice David Kraus, whose name appears on page 368 of American Jews in World War II, was awarded the Air Medal and Purple Heart. Born in New York City on July 18, 1922, he graduated in Selman Field Class 43-08 (August of 1943) with serial number 0-805172.
Oddly, an account of the incident on Tacloban even now – in 2023 – is more conjecture than conclusion.
How so?
The Missing Air Crew Report (MACR) index name card filed for Lt. Kraus’ bears no MACR number.
The AAIR (Aviation Archeological Investigation and Research) database for 1945 is absent of any record – assuming such even existed – pertaining to a February 6, 1945 plane crash at Tacloban, or, Leyte Island.
Lt. Kraus’ IDPF (Individual Deceased Personnel File), which records his father’s business address as “Kraus Import Company, 15 West 38th St., Room 907, New York, 18, N.Y.”) lists his military unit as the 5th Air Service Area Command of the 5th Air Force, but is devoid of specific information about the Tacloban incident.
The unit history of the 5th Air Service Area Command, on AFHRA Microfilm Reel A7368, is remarkably vague about the February 6, 1945 plane crash, the Command’s history for February of 1945 (on frame 620, to be specific) stating, “A Depot #2 C-47 airplane loaded with priority freight and one passenger, crashed on takeoff at Tacloban Airstrip. All persons were killed and the plane was completely demolished.”
Thus, the mystery.
However, some rather circuitous research suggests that the plane’s pilot may (…may…) have been 2 Lt. Ralph C. Stava of Douglas, Nebraska, who was assigned to the 43rd Service Squadron of the 12th Air Depot Group. Quoting the news article “Lt. RALPH STAVA REPORTED KILLED” at Lt. Stava’s FindAGrave biographical profile (based on articles in the Omaha World Herald and Plattsmouth Journal):
“Edward F. Stava, Douglas, has been advised that his son, Second Lieutenant RALPH C. STAVA, was killed in a plane crash in the Leyte area of the Philippines February 6, 1945. This message was received here in the Plattsmouth Journal office Friday by the Kenneth McCarthy family.
“Born in Plattsmouth, Lieutenant Stava graduated from Plattsmouth High School in 1940 and attended Tarkio, Missouri College prior to going into the service. He entered the military shortly after the outbreak of the war and received his training in the south until graduation.
“Lieutenant Stava received his silver wings and was commissioned a Second Lieutenant status at the Marfa, Texas, AAF advanced two-engine pilot school. He was assigned to Gardner Field, Taft, California.
“Lieutenant Stava was sent to the Pacific area early last summer and has since been in action in that part of the war zone. He had been overseas seven months.”
Much like the IDPF for Lt. Kraus’, the IDPF for Lt. Stava has no specifics about the accident of February 6, 1945, whether in terms of technical information about the C-47, a list of the plane’s crew and passengers, or extracts from a report about the accident.
And so, the mystery remains.
Lt. Kraus, whose name appeared in an official casualty list published on March 8, 1945, and in the “In Memoriam” Section of the Times on February 10, 1946, is buried at Mount Hope Cemetery, in Hastings, New York.
This series of Mapple Apps Apple Maps, of larger and larger scale as you scroll down the page, show the location of the current Daniel Z. Romualdez Airport (formerly Tacloban Airfield) on Leyte Island, in the Philippines.
This first map shows Tacloban and Leyte Island in relation to other major islands of the Philippines.
Moving in closer, we see Tacloban relative to Leyte Island on the west, Samar Island on the east (separated by San Juanico Strait), and San Pedro Bay to the South.
And, a closer map view of the airport itself. Note that there is a single runway, oriented almost exactly north-south…
… which can be seen more clearly in this aerial (or satellite?) photo.
Approximately eighty years old, this photo (U.S. National Naval Aviation Museum photo 2001.294.006) show the Tacloban airfield in late 1944. In this image, the view is looking directly south along the eastern coast of Leyte Island, with San Pablo Bay to the left (west).
The man who may have been the pilot of the unidentified C-47: Lt. Ralph C. Stava. This image, via FindAGrave contributor Loren Bender, is from Stava’s FindAGrave biographical profile. The winged propeller cap insignia indicates that the photo was taken when he was an aviation cadet.
______________________________
Sergeant David Snider
United States Marine Corps
Bombing Squadron VMB-613
(Here’s the (un)official insignia of VMB-613, as designed by First Lieutenant James R. Edmunds III. As described at the squadron association’s website, “This … squadron insignia was set on a circular red background. Centered on the background were Naval Aviator wings with a globe and anchor. Above the wings were three maces. The main feature was a 75mm cannon tube with a skull in the muzzle, proudly denoting VMB-613’s unique status as only Marine Bombing Squadron to utilize the cannon-armed PBJ-1H in combat.”)
Sgt. David Snider, Marine Corps, of 1981 Eightieth Street, Brooklyn, was killed Feb. 6 in the Central Pacific theatre, according to word received here yesterday. His age was 20.
Born in New York, he was graduated from Erasmus Hall High School and entered the Marine Corps in 1942.
He leaves a widow, Lenore; his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Isidore Snider; two brothers, Corp. Samuel Snider, Marine Corps, and Leon Snider, and a sister, Mrs. Ruth Barst.
Sgt. Snider was married, his wife, Lenore, residing at 1981 80th Street in Brooklyn. Interestingly – well, this was the United States of nearly-eight decades ago! – Lenore’s family lived “just down the street” from the Sniders, who resided at 2019 80th Street. David’s parents were Isidore (4/3/89-5/29/52) and Baseva (Sophia or Sophie) (Melamed / Blumberg) (9/10/89-9/21/71) Snider; his brothers Samuel and Leon, and his sister Ruth Barst. He was reburied at Riverside Cemetery in Rochelle Park, New Jersey on July 6, 1949.
His name appeared in a Casualty List published on 2/27/45, and can also be found on page 448 of American Jews in World War II, which notes that he was awarded the Purple Heart.
A photographer in Marine Corps bomber squadron VMSB-613 (a unit of Marine Air Group 31 of the 4th Marine Air Wing), Sergeant Snider (805866) was one of six men aboard PBJ-1H Mitchell #35275 – plane-in-squadron number “6”, otherwise known as the LOVE BUG – which was shot down by anti-aircraft fire during a bombing mission to Airstrip #2 on Ponape (Pohnpei) Island, “…one of the Senyavin Islands which are part of the larger Caroline Islands group,” an archipelago of small islands in the western Pacific Ocean.
Piloted by 1 Lt. William John Love (0-23765) from Vineland, Kansas (whose surname inspired the bomber’s nickname), the plane’s other crewmen comprised:
Given the plethora of information about the LOVE BUG and her crew, rather than rewrite the crew’s entire story, I’ll instead present excerpts from PacificWrecks and VMB-613. Of particular and ironic note is the fact that Lt. William J. Love’s brother, 1 Lt. Robert E. Love, was also a pilot in VMB-613, the brothers and their crews – William J. Love’s “Crew No. 2”, and Robert E. Love’s “Crew No. 1” – alternately flying the LOVE BUG.
First, from Pacific Wrecks, quoting VMB-613 veteran Robert Yanacek
“Here is an interesting story, told to me by one of Bob Love’s radio-gunners, Lloyd McDaniel. Bill Love and his crew were not scheduled for the fateful raid. Bob Love and his crew were supposed to have been on the raid. Lloyd told me that at about dusk on February 5th, a Japanese sub was sighted. VMB-613 dispatched one aircraft to investigate. That aircraft was the “Love Bug” flown by Bob Love and his crew. The patrolled the area for a number of hours but couldn’t locate anything. The headed back to Eniwetok and did not land until after midnight. Because the arrived back so late, it was decided that they would not fly the strike on Ponape. Bill Love and his crew were then assigned to the mission. Bill Love and his crew left Eniwetok at 9AM in the “Love Bug” never to return. As Bob Love and his crew awoke on Eniwetok about noon, word came over the radio that there had been some problems.
Wartime History
On February 6, 1945 at 9:00am took off from Enewetak Airfield (Stickell Field) piloted by 1st Lt. William J. Love with Crew No. 2 armed with four 500 pound bombs on a strike mission against Palikir Airfield (Airfield No. 2) on Ponape Island. This formation included six PBJ Mitchells flying in three sections in pairs at an altitude of 8,000′. This PBJ was flying as the lead plane in the third section.
Over Ponape Island were thunderstorms and the PBJs had to change their planned attack. The first section found a hole in the weather and made a violent turn to get over the target but the second aircraft was not able to release its bombs. The second section was able to make a better approach and flew the length of the target and claimed several bomb hits but the second plane had three bombs hang up.
When the third section attacked, it swung wide to the left then circled to the right to attack Palikir Airfield (Airfield No. 2) from another angle. Over the target, medium and light anti-aircraft fire was intense. During the bombing run, this PBJ was hit by anti-aircraft fire in the bottom of the fuselage that entered the nose section fire from “a small gun atop Dolen Pahniepw” (Dolen Palikir) and crashed and burned on impact at Palikir. Soon after the crash one of the bombs still aboard exploded.
Second, VMB-613 has an extremely detailed account of the PBJ’s loss…
This comprises a transcript of the Aircraft Action Report, an account of exploration and research of the crash site in the early 2000s (two decades ago already…?!) by Stan Gajda, Richard D. Williams and Russell French, their efforts to definitively establish the fate and burial location of Sgt. Snider, and, a retrospective of the 60th anniversary memorial service (February 6, 2005) for the crew, in which the airmen were commemorated by Ambassador Suzanne K. Hale. Particularly valuable and moving are the many (very many!) photographs of the crash location and surviving fragments of 35275 (at least, the little that still remained as of 2001 and 2005) by Stan Gajda and Dick Williams.
Third, here’s an excerpt of the Aircraft Action Report from the website of VMB-613’s Association website:
Bombing Airstrip #2, Ponape Island
“The tail gunner of the first plane of the last section saw the right wing of the last plane collapse immediately outboard of the engine nacelle just as the pilot completed a wide turn and leveled out for his approach. The plane crashed just short of the runway exploding on impact with the ground and burning violently. In the opinion of the tail gunner no bombs had been dropped by this plane and no heavy A/A fire was observed although light and medium flak was intense. No cause for the collapse of the wing has been established. It is believed that all personnel aboard were killed in the crash and also that classified material carried in the plane would have been destroyed by the fire preventing its compromise.”
It’s my understanding that the LOVE BUG was VMB-613’s only aircraft lost to enemy action during WW II. The squadron’s only other combat fatality also occurred on the February 6 mission: Pvt. William M. Farley, serving as a navigator, was killed by a fragment from one of the 500-pound bombs dropped from his own aircraft, during the strike against airfield #2. Unfortunately, the Bureau Number of his PBJ is not listed.
Relevant information and photos can be accessed at the following VMB-613 Association web pages:
Aircraft Action Report PONAPE CRASH-SITE: PAGE 1 – 20 photos (map and 19 photos of crash site) PONAPE CRASH-SITE: PAGE 2 – 20 photos (fragments of wreckage discovered in early 2000s) PONAPE CRASH-SITE: PAGE 3 – 8 photos (fragments of aircraft wreckage, Sgt. Snider’s matzeva and dog-tag, collective grave marker for the bomber’s other five crew members, and, a contemporary (early 2000s) photo of Susan (Stone) Clare, Lt. Stone’s daughter, who was two months old at the time of her father’s death.)
You can also view several images of Tory Mucaro’s 1/72 model of the LOVE BUG (web page from 2006) at Hyperscale.com.
Here’s the LOVE BUG in an image from the biographical profile of co-pilot 1 Lt. Thomas W. Stone, via FindAGrave contributor John T. Chiarella. Note that the only personal marking is the nickname itself, nose art being absent. Other VMB-613 Mitchell nicknames, all similarly painted along the muzzle port of the plane’s 75mm cannon, included, “…8-Ball, Betty Lou, Bung-Ho!, Fireball, Flaming Fury, Green Weenie, Ladders Up, Long Gone, Marlene, Miss-Carriage, and Pregnant Annie.”
This in-flight digital depiction of the LOVE BUG in flight is among five such images of the plane at WarThunder.com. These images clearly illustrates the camouflage and markings of VMB-613’s Mitchells: “…the three-tone color scheme adopted by the U.S. Navy in March of 1944 – sea blue, intermediate sea blue, and white. An unusual feature of this color scheme was that the sea blue on the upper surfaces was carried over onto the leading edges of the lower surfaces of the wing and horizontal stabilizer. The squadron number for each aircraft was stenciled in large white numbers within a dark-colored rectangular box below the aircraft’s Bureau Number on the vertical stabilizer. The purpose of this dark-colored rectangular box was simply to obliterate the original two-digit aircraft numbers used stateside while the squadron was training.”
Though not actually visible at the scale of this map, Ponape Island, the site of the LOVE BUG’s loss in combat, as one of the Caroline islands, would be “within” the location designated by the red oval.
Oogling in much (much) closer onto Ponape (Pohnpei) Island, Airstrip #2 is located near Palikir, in the island’s northwest.
Even closer: The LOVE BUG crashed at the location indicated by Oogle’s emblematic red pointer. In this 2022 CNES air (or is it satellite?) photo, it can be seen that Airstrip #2 has been replaced by a road, and, what appears to be a cluster of houses.
This topographic map of the LOVE BUG’s crash site, at a slightly larger scale than the preceding Oogle image, is via VMB-613 website. It can be seen that Lt. Love’s bomber crashed into a hillside due north of the northeast corner of the airstrip.
From the Voith Family Tree at Ancestry.com, this image, presumably from the late 20s or early 30s, shows David’s parents Isidor and Sophie, with (left to right) brother Leon, sister Ruth, Davey (David) himself, and brother Sam in front.
Another Voith Family Tree image. This photo, evidently sent by Sgt. Snider to his family, is captioned: “A. L. Brasington Florida A. P. Petko : Penna. J. L. Packard – Calif R. L. Stehman, Penna. F. J. Dudzik Illinois & Your One & only Davy”. Further research revealed that these men are:
Albert L. Brasington (Florida) Andrew P. Petko (Pennsylvania) James L. Packard (California) Robert L. Stehman (Pennsylvania) Frank J. Dudzik (Illinois) … and … David Snider, having a bite in lower right.
David (right) and his brother Samuel. I’m not certain of the source of this image; it may be VMB-613.com.
David married the (almost literally) “girl next door”…
This 2022 Oogle Street View shows the former Snider home, at 2019 80th Street in Brooklyn.
Some home, different perspective: The view has been rotated to the left, showing the intersection of 80th Street and 20th Ave, with 1981 80th Street just to the right of the traffic light. Not much of a walk between houses, eh?
And so, we arrive at 1981 80th St., the home of Lenore – David’s wife. A “deep dive” into Ancestry.com revealed that Lenore – who may also have gone by the names Lenora or Leonora – was actually Lenore Ehrlich. Born on December 25, 1923, her father was David Levine; her sister Mary; her brother Alvin. She and David were married on May 9, 1944 in Brooklyn, their all-too-brief marriage spanning just a little over nine months.
From VMB-613 (specifically, “TRANSFER TO MCAF NEWPORT: PAGE 1“), this Marine Corps photo (from the David Snider Collection, c/o the Manning Brothers) is captioned, “REMMEL PARK: First Lieutenant Francis S. Manning, Sergeant David Snider, and an unidentified VMB-613 member enjoy an outing at Remmel Park in Newport along with their wives.” The obvious conclusion is that the lady to David’s left is his wife and at-one-time girl next door, Lenore.
Lt. Love and his four crew members were buried at Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery in Saint Louis, on June 10, 1949. This photo of the crew’s collective grave, at the FindAGrave biographical profile of Sgt. John R. Schwaller, is via FindAGrave contributor Jami.
Sgt. David Snider’s dog-tag: As described at VMB-613, “Immediately following the end of World War II, a number of squadron members went to Ponape in search of the crew of MB-6 that had been lost over the island on February 6, 1945. One squadron member recovered a dog tag from the body of Sergeant David Snider and brought it back to Kwajalein where it was given to Dave’s friend, Corporal Herbert E. Schwartz. [Served in Ordnance section of VMB-613.] Corporal Schwartz had hoped to return the dog tag to Sergeant Snider’s wife upon his return to the United States, however he was unable to locate her. Photograph: Marine Bombing Squadron Six-Thirteen (Courtesy of Herbert E. Schwartz)”
Here’s a last image from the Voith Family Tree: Sergeant David Snider’s matzeva, at Riverside Cemetery, in Rochelle Park, New Jersey.
______________________________
Flight Officer Stanley Louis Dietel
8th Air Force
509th Bomb Squadron, 351st Bomb Group
(Here’s the insignia of the 509th Bomb Squadron, as embroidered upon an A-2 flight jacket once worn by John R. Bluford of the 351st Bomb Group. The jacket was auctioned through invaluable.com on December 15, 2020. As shown in images at invaluable’s website, the insignia seems (?!) to have been sewn upon the jacket in an incorrect orientation. I’ve thus Photoshopped (rotated) the image to depict the insignia as designed, such that the bomb is pointing downwards to the left.)
Thus for the Pacific Theatre.
Now, on the world’s other side: The European Theater.
What’s striking on February 6, 1945, is that the majority of casualties this day, except for the men who were captured, occurred in incidents that did not involve direct and immediate contact with the enemy.
In the case of the 351st Bomb Group, after a mission to Targets of Opportunity at Eisfelde, Germany, a mid-air collision occurred between two B-17s of the 509th Bomb Squadron, claiming the lives of nineteen airmen. While circling the Group’s base at Polebrook, Northamptonshire, un-named B-17G 43-38080 (DS * Q), piloted by 1 Lt. Edward R. Ashton, was struck from underneath by B-17G 43-37595 (“RQ * O”) piloted by 2 Lt. Reinhold W. Vergen (thus that plane’s nickname: Vergen’s Virgins) while circling the base, tearing off the right wing of 38080. (“Clouds were down to 200 feet over the base when the planes returned, making landing difficult.”) Both aircraft crashed in a field near Lutton, east of Polebrook, with no survivors.
Lists of the crews of 43-38080 and 43-37595 can be found here.
Among the nine men aboard Vergen’s Virgins was bombardier Flight Officer Stanley Louis Dietel (T-129652), from New Brunswick, New Jersey. The son of Jacob (1885-1940) and Sarah (Ellenswig) Dietel (12/25/84-1958) of 191 Sanford Street – he also had six sisters – he was born in Highland Park on November 15, 1924.
Though a Missing Air Crew Report name index file card was created for F/O Dietel, no MACR was actually compiled for this incident.
F/O dietel’s name appeared in a Casualty List published on March 15, 1945, and can be found on pages 230 and 231 of American Jews in World War II. He received the Purple Heart and Air Medal, the 351st Bomb Group website indicating that the sortie of February 6 was his tenth mission.
F/O Dietel is buried in Grave 14, Row 7, Plot F, of the Cambridge American Cemetery.
This composite image shows Stanley Dietel as he appeared in the 1943 (left) and 1945 editions of the Highland Park High School yearbook. The 1945 image is available via the Barwick Family Tree at Ancestry.com, and, Stanley Dietel’s biographical profile at FindAGrave.
This was unexpected. While reviewing F/O Dietel’s FindAGrave biographical profile, I discovered that his matzeva is a crucifix (as seen in this photograph by Skip Farrow) in accordance instructions in his Headstone Inscription and Interment Record, which lists his mother as his next of kin.
Both of his National Jewish Welfare Board Bureau of War Records biographical information cards verify that he was a Jew, his name also appearing on pages 230 and 231 of American Jews in World War II.
Though extraordinarily rare in terms of WW II casualties in the American military, this is not entirely unprecedented, as exemplified by the story of General Maurice Rose. Though I have no plans to access F/O Dietel’s Individual Deceased Personnel File, perhaps the explanation could be found amidst correspondence in that document.
There’s a detailed and moving account concerning 2 Lt. Morton H. Feingold (0-838396), a co-pilot in the 549th Bomb Squadron of the 8th Air Force’s 385th Bomb Group, by Ron McInnis, his crew’s tail gunner, at IanMcinnis.com, under the title “Flying Backwards in ‘44”.
Mr. McInnis’ story reveals that during the February 6 mission to Chemnitz, Germany, after having bombed the target, the 385th Bomb Group temporarily became lost due to a combination of headwinds and jamming of aircraft navigational gear by the Germans. The formation leader thus decided to descend to 12,000’ while still over Germany, the squadron (and group?) eventually breaking into clear weather directly over the city of Cologne.
The Luftwaffe anti-aircraft gunners were ready: Flak, visually aimed, was fired directly into the 385th’s formation.
Struck by flak as Lt. Feingold piloted Miss Fortune (43-38118; XA * K) – he and aircraft commander Lt. Jerome Stiel alternated this task on combat missions – the aircraft suddenly went into a climb verging on a stall. After Lt. Stiel recovered control of the aircraft, it was discovered that Morton had been struck in his right kidney by a large piece of flak. No other crew members were injured.
Lt. Stiel immediately contacted Ninth Air Force Command, informing them of a medical emergency, and was directed to land at Florennes, Belgium. Lt. Feingold was removed from his seat by Miss Fortune’s navigator and bombardier and then given morphine, the crew’s flight engineer taking over as co-pilot. With a remarkable job of piloting Miss Fortune during an extremely challenging landing involving – which necessitated avoiding a parked B-17 and a bellied-in C-47 – Lt. Stiel brought his B-17 to a temporary and rapid halt as medics removed Lt. Feingold from the airplane, even as he avoided yet another B-17 making an emergency landing.
Taken to a hospital in Charleroi, Lt. Feingold passed away two days later. His injuries were too severe for survival.
Like Flight Officer Dietel, a MACR name index cards exists for Lt. Feingold, albeit with the notation “No MACR #”.
The son of Abraham and Rose Feingold and brother of Thelma, Lt. Feingold’s family resided at 3933 Gladys Street in Chicago, where he was born on April 15, 1924. Buried at Glen Oak Cemetery, Hillside, Illinois, on May 31, 1949, his name appears on page 98 of American Jews in World War II, which records that he received the Air Medal and Purple Heart. News about his death in combat appeared in The Chicagoan on July 11, 1946, while notice of his burial appeared in the Chicago Tribune on May 29, 1949.
You can read Ron McInnis’ account of the February 6 mission here, and with links to all five sections of his writings here.
This image of Miss Fortune / XA * K, is from B17FlyingFortress.de, via 385th Bomb Group.com. Given that the aircraft’s landing gear has been lowered and it’s dropping packages at minimal altitude, it would seem that it’s engaged in a food dropping mission over the Netherlands in late April of 1945, as described on page 230 of Roger Freeman’s The Mighty Eighth. Particularly noticeable is the distinctive late-war red checkerboard tail marking of the 385th Bomb Group.
Here’s Miss Fortune on the nose of 43-38118. This image is from the website of the 385th Bomb Group Association. According to Roger Freeman’s The B-17 Flying Fortress Story, this aircraft survived the war and ended up at Kingman, Arizona, by late November of 1945.
______________________________
Flight Officer Edwin London
8th Air Force
857th Bomb Squadron, 492nd Bomb Group
(Maurer and Maurer’s Combat Squadrons of the Air Force, World War II, states that the 857th Bomb Squadron had no squadron emblem. However, Battlefield.Store on EBay, describes this insignia as the emblem of the 857th.)
A non-combat incident claimed the crew of B-24H Liberator Gunga Din (41-29505) of the 492nd Bomb Group’s 857th Bomb Squadron.
The aircraft, manned by 2 Lt. Charles H. Edwards with his crew of eight, crashed during a night training mission at Lyon-Bron Airfield, France, during an attempted emergency landing on three engines.
Among the plane’s crew was bombardier F/O Edwin London (T-128655). Born in Manhattan on Oct. 9, 1923, he was the son of Louis and Sophia London, of 2483 Davidson Ave., in the Bronx. (Also at 138 Remsen St., in Brooklyn?)
Paralleling F/O Dietel, though a Missing Air Crew Report name index file card was created for F/O London, the card is absent of a MACR Number, implying that no such document was filed to report on Gunga-Din’s loss.
F/O London’s name appears on page 383 of American Jews in World War II, but this entry is absent of a notation indicating the receipt of a Purple Heart or any other award, suggesting that the Edwards crew had flown fewer than five – or perhaps no? – actual combat missions prior to the accident February 6.
F/O London is buried at King Solomon Memorial Park in Clifton, New Jersey.
Edwards, Charles H. – 2 Lt. – Pilot – 0-719592 Burt, Merrill A. – 2 Lt. – Co-Pilot – 0-2062978 London, Edwin – F/O – Bombardier – T-128655 Roy, Gerard L. – 2 Lt. – Navigator – 0-2065189
Front, left to right
Matthews, James D. – Sgt. – Flight Engineer – 38506486 Mellotte, James O. – Sgt. – Radio Operator – 14136535 Stuckey, John T. – Sgt. – Gunner – 38389577 Boren, Mose C., Jr. – Sgt. – Gunner – 19106534 Cathers, Allan W. – Sgt. – Gunner – 42072365 Wolfersberger, R.G., Jr. – Sgt. – Gunner – 36466780
______________________________
______________________________
Some Came Back
Among the Jewish airmen who were casualties during combat missions on February 6, 1945, six men were captured; all in Europe. All returned to the United States after the war’s end in Europe. Four of these men served in the 8th Air Force, and two in the Italian-based 12th Air Force.
On a mission to Weisbaden, Germany, Lady Satan, B-17G 42-97175 (9Z * C) of the 728th Bomb Squadron, 452nd Bomb Group, commanded by 2 Lt. James L. Bayless, was struck by flak, setting the plane’s right inboard (#3) engine afire. As reported in Missing Air Crew Report 12240, “Shortly afterwards the engine fell off and the fire went out. Four chutes were seen from the A/C at 49-52 N, 07-49 E (by Gee Fix) at 1248 hours and then the A/C, losing altitude in a glide, disappeared into the clouds still under control.”
Eight of the bomber’s nine crew members survived as prisoners of war: Four men parachuted, and four rode Lady Satan to a crash-landing.
It turned out that the flak burst which destroyed the #3 engine also struck co-pilot 2 Lt. Harold E. McComb, almost severing his right leg below the knee. Unable to bail out or assist in flying the aircraft, he placed a tourniquet around his leg and remained in Lady Satan’s nose compartment, while uninjured navigator Lt. Harold Brod and wounded togglier Sgt. John Young moved to the bomber’s waist. From then on, Lt. Bayless alone piloted the badly damaged bomber.
According to Luftgaukommando Report KU 3649, at 1310 hours, Lady Satan made an “emergency landing” near Simmern, “behind” Dhaun, 1 km north of Kirn-Soberheim Street.
Placed in an ambulance and taken with Sgt. Young to a hospital in the city of Kirn, Lt. McComb was given a blood transfusion from the wounded togglier, his lower leg being amputated. However, he died during the evening.
As for those who parachuted from the B-17? Postwar, radio operator Sgt. Hubert Salyer reported that, “We left formation almost immediately. Shortly after leaving the formation (approximately 2-4 minutes) I bailed out of plane on orders from pilot. I was captured when I hit the ground, a small village named Deutschild. Two other crew members were also picked up here with me. I understand from Alexander Jacobs, the waist gunner on our crew, that he was captured at Bad Kreuznach, Germany.”
Navigator 2 Lt. Harold Brod (0-2065036) was born in Manhattan on June 27, 1924. His parents were Louis and Rose, of 718 Brunswick Ave. in Elizabeth, New Jersey, and (earlier?) 111 Benjamin Street, in Cranford, New Jersey.
Like the other six survivors of Lady Satan, Lt. Brod and Sgt. Jacobs spent the rest of the war as POWs, though the camps in which they were interned are unknown. Neither man’s name appears in American Jews in World War II, though Sgt. Jacobs’ name appeared in a list of liberated POWs in a Casualty List published on June 10, 1945.
The nose art of Lady Satan, from FindAGrave contributor and historian Jaap Vermeer.
This image, also via Jaap Vermeer, is from the FindAGrave page for 2 Lt. James L. Bayless, Sr. Though the image lacks a caption, one of the two doughnut-enjoying officers in the photo is presumably Lt. Bayless, who died in 1982.
The documents preserved in Luftgaukommando Reports can be as informative as they are striking. In this case, Luftgaukommando Report KU 3649, which covers the identification of Lady Satan, and, the identification and “processing” of her crew, includes the crew roster shown below, which – being in English – was not compiled by German intelligence!
I’d suggest two origins for this document. 1) It was created after the crew was formed, during training in the United States, 2) It was drafted just before the crew’s departure from the United States to England. In either case, it probably represents the Bayless crew as originally formed. The reason being, that Lieutenants John R. Jekutis and Maurice L. Waterson, Sr. were not aboard the aircraft when it was shot down, and Germans Intelligence was able to identity Lt. McComb and Sgt. Young as filling in for those two men’s crew positions, as evident in the notations in red in the left margin.
In any event, though it’s my understanding that flight crews were never supposed to carry personal documents, family correspondence, photos, memorabilia, or trinkets – whether military or civilian – on combat missions, a perusal of Luftgaukommando Reports reveals that this rule was often honored in the breach. Ironically, this can make a perusal of these documents surprising, moving, and (at times) haunting.
As shown here.
The document below, from KU 3649, is an “Angaben über Gefangennahme eines Angehörigen der feindlichen Luftwaffe” (Information about the capture of a member of the enemy air force) form for Lt. Brod.
Note that Lady Satan is (correctly) recorded as having “Notgelandet” (made an emergency landing), and Lt. Brod is stated to have “Verweigert Aussage des Geburtsdatums und letzten Wohnortes” (Refused to state date of birth and last place of residence.)
Also note… The diminutive but not-necessarily-innocuous “H” penciled to the right of Lt. Brod’s name and serial number.
Here’s Lt. Brod’s Casualty Questionnaire from MACR 12240. Note that Lt. Bayless landed the plane while alone in the cockpit, Lt. McComb (after having been given morphine) having been placed in the nose, while Sgt. Young (also wounded) and Lt. Brod remained in the waist.
And, below is the “Angaben über Gefangennahme eines Angehörigen der feindlichen Luftwaffe” form for Sgt. Jacobs.
The document correctly records that the Sergeant “Mit Fallschirm abgesprungen” (Jumped out with a parachute.)
Unlike the form for Lt. Brod, that for Sgt. Jacobs – despite the fact that both men’s dog-tags were stamped with the letter “H” – lacks a notation about the Sergeant’s being a Jew. However, comments about his physical description are penciled in the upper right corner.
Ironically; sadly, Lt. Brod, once again “Harold Brod”, twelve years later encountered what is known in literature, myth, and legend as an “appointment in Samarra”. To quote an example from the Talmud (Tractate Sukkah 53a):
Johanan stated, A man’s feet are responsible for him; they lead him to the place where he is wanted.
There were once two Cushites who attended on Solomon, and these were Elihoreph and Ahyah, the sons of Shisha, scribes, of Solomon. One day Solomon observed that the Angel of Death was sad. ‘Why’, he said to him, ‘art thou sad?’ — ‘Because’, he answered him, ‘they have demanded from me the two Cushites who sit here’. [Solomon thereupon] gave them in charge of the spirits and sent them to the district of Luz. When, however, they reached the district of Luz they died. On the following day, he observed that the Angel of Death was in cheerful spirits. ‘Why’, he said to him, ‘art thou cheerful?’ — ‘To the place’, the other replied, ‘where they expected them from me, thither didst thou send them!’ Solomon thereupon uttered the saying, ‘A man’s feet are responsible for him; they lead him to the place where he is wanted.’
As an executive (import-export manager) of the United Stated Plywood Corporation of Los Angeles, he was killed in a plane crash at Bulog Village, Batangas Province, Luzon, on October 11, 1957, while aboard a civilian aircraft whose four other passengers included Carlos P. Romulo, Jr., eldest son of Brigadier General Carlos Romulo. The aircraft was piloted by Paul Irving “Pappy” Gunn, famed WW II aviator and – at the time, as owner of the plane – General Manager of the Philippine Air Development Company. Strangely, while the Wikipedia entry for Pappy Gunn indicates that the plane crashed in a storm, a United Press news story dated October 11 states that the unidentified twin-engine aircraft exploded in mid-air, while an Associated Press story filed on the same day states that the aircraft ran out of fuel. (What?! Very strange.)
Though I’ve not been able to find any images of Harold Brod, his FindAGrave biographical profile includes this newspaper photo – probably from 1957 or ’58 – showing Beth L. Brod, his widow, donating a check to Columbia University in honor of her late husband. The text accompanying the image follows:
“ACCEPTING a check from Mrs. Harold Brod, center, for a scholarship in honor of her late husband, to be known as the Harold Brod Memorial Room at Columbia University, Grayson Kirk, president of Columbia, is pictured above, right, as Dean Lawrence H. Chamberlain looks on. The endowed scholarship room in a Columbia dormitory will be awarded annually to a deserving student at the college, who must maintain regular scholarship standards. The first award will be made in the fall. Mrs. Brod is the former Beth Drexler [Beth L. Drexler] of Larchmont, whose husband was killed Oct. 11, 1957, when the plane in which he was returning home from a business trip to Mindanao exploded 50 miles south of the Philippines. Mrs. Brod was awaiting him in Hong Kong and the couple, married in November, 1956, [Nov. 4, 1956] had planned a round-the-world trip. The five passengers in the plane, including Carlos P. Romulo, Jr., were all killed. Members of the class of 1947 at Columbia of which Mr. Brod was president, have also formed a Harold Brod Scholarship Committee to contribute to the scholarship established by Mrs. Brod. The thirty-three-year-old Mr. Brod was import-export manager for U.S. Plywood at the time of his death.”
Sgt. Alexander Jacobs (12178235), the bomber’s waist gunner, was reported in Luftgaukommando Report KU 3649 (Luftgaukommando Reports can be rather detailed!)) as having been captured at 1257 hours on Bad Kreuznach-Hackenheim Street. The son of Rubin (11/7/90-10/27/41) and Rose (Katz) (1887-4/6/75) Jacobs, his family’s residence was 2720 Grand Concourse, in the Bronx. Born in Manhattan like Lt. Brod – on February 11, 1923 – he passed away at the young age of 45 in June of 1968.
______________________________
Sergeant Martin Howard Rubin
8th Air Force
330th Bomb Squadron, 93rd Bomb Group
(The emblem of the 330th Bomb Squadron, from abqmetal’s ebay store.)
Staff Sergeant Martin Howard Rubin (32896697) was also captured on February 6.
A nose gunner in the 330th Bomb Squadron of the 8th Air Force’s 93rd Bomb Group, his B-24J Liberator 42-50505 (AG * E), Gremlin’s Roost, was shot down by flak during a mission to Magdeburg, Germany. Piloted by 1 Lt. Howard E. Jennings, seven of the bomber’s nine crewmen survived the loss of their aircraft, with waist gunners S/Sgt. Arthur S. Humphreys, and S/Sgt. Vance K. Jeffers being killed in action.
As reported in Missing Air Crew Report 12355, the aircraft left the 93rd’s formation 15 miles south of Alkmar, Holland.
According to German records (specifically, Luftgaukommando Report AV 1908/45) Gremlin’s Roost crashed 2 km north of Akersloot.
S/Sgt. William R. Barton and 2 Lt. Billie J. Holmes, respectively, describe the bomber’s loss in these accounts from MACR 12355:
On mission 6 February 1945 I was flying tail gunner in ship #880/S. After we had crossed the Dutch coast I heard over the interphone that #42-50505/E had been hit and was going down. At this time I saw 505/E make a right turn away from the main formation. The ship then straighten(ed) out and I saw three chutes come out. After flying straight for a few moments the ship started a steep climb and about ten seconds before the ship turned over on its back I saw one man come out of the bomb-bay. On the way down the ship blew up into three or four pieces all of which were on fire. I then watch(ed) one chute hit the water about three or four hundred yards from the coast, and another two chutes I saw land on the beach. I also saw the ship hit the ground about two minutes before the first chute hit.
On mission 6 February 1945 I was flying co-pilot in ship 880/S. As we were crossing the Dutch coast I saw ship #42-50505/E receive a direct hit behind #2 engine, the ship must have received hits on the flight deck, for at the time flares started shooting out of the ship. After the flares went off flames started coming out of the bomb-bay, then the ship turned away from the formation to the right. After a few moments it started climbing and I saw three chutes come out. After this we turned a little and this obstructed my view. At the end of the ship’s steep climb I saw the ship roll over on its back and start down. After 505/E had fallen about six thousand feet (approximately 10,000 feet off of the ground) it blew up into three or four pieces, all of which were on fire. At this point the entire formation made a turn to the left and here I lost sight of the ship.
Sergeants Barton’s and Lt. Holmes’ statements report that only three to four crew members escaped the mortally damaged bomber. However, Casualty Questionnaires in the Missing Air Crew Report suggest that S/Sgt. Vance K. Jeffers, left waist gunner, though mortally wounded by flak, was able to successfully parachute from the damaged plane. After landing, he walked several yards to the home of a Dutch family, in whose presence he died. S/Sgt. Arthur S. Humphrey, the right waist gunner, was killed aboard the aircraft and never left the plane.
Luftgaukommando Report KU 3672 contains a small plethora of documents that were in Sgt. Rubin’s possession when he was captured. As listed in the report, these include:
Booklet AAF Form No. 206 2 pages of immunization register 3 self-photos 2 receipts numbered 1993 and 1994 1 green card 1 N.C.O. Club card 1 identification card Card 1 Bicycle Permit A-2323 and card authorizing transfer of bicycle Slip of paper regarding spectacle prescription data Calendar paper slips cut from newspaper
As for Sergeant Rubin, his mother Sarah lived at 68-35 Burns Street, in Forest Hills, New York. MACR 12355 reports that he completed 27 missions. His capture was reported in the Long Island Star Journal on April 19, 1945, while his name appeared in a list of liberated POWs published on June 22 of that year. His name – like other names reported for February 6, 1945 – is absent from American Jews in World War II, while the POW camp in which he was interned is similarly unknown.
Born in Brooklyn on September 26, 1924, he died on January 11, 1999.
Three photographs as one: This is a composite image of the three Escape and Evasion portraits carried by Sgt. Martin Rubin, found in Luftgaukommando Report KU 3672. Though such pictures are present in many Luftgaukommando Reports (well, at least it seemed (?!) that way when I reviewed the original physical reports at NARA, at least based on a cursory examination of the documents), only a miniscule number of these images bear an airman’s name. In such cases, as in the center image of Sgt. Rubin, his name was presumably written by a German investigator.
Among the many personal documents carried by Sgt. Rubin is this civilian personal identification card, from the Pioneer Suspender Company of Philadelphia.
______________________________
Sergeant Jacob Zuckerman
8th Air Force
849th Bomb Squadron, 490th Bomb Group
(The colorful nose art of B-17G 43-37894, BIG POISON, of the 849th Bomb Squadron, via the American Air Museum in Britain.According to InchHighGuy, the artist was Master Sergeant Jay D. Cowan and the photographer Captain Arnold Delmonico. (Perhaps the original image was Kodachrome?)
Another mid-air collision during the Chemnitz mission … this incident involving aircraft of the 388th and 490th Bomb Groups.
B-17G 43-37806, Miss Fortune, of the 561st Bomb Squadron, 388th Bomb Group, piloted by Lt. George Thompson, collided over England with B-17G 43-37894, Big Poison, of the 849th Bomb Squadron, 490th Bomb Group, piloted by Lt. John W. Hedgecock.
Miss Fortune crashed in the vicinity of Wicken, Cambridgeshire. Of the bomber’s nine crewmen, 1 Lt. Robert A. Wettersten was killed.
Big Poison crashed in the vicinity of Prickwillow, Suffolk, killing two civilians on the ground, along with ball turret gunner Sgt. Edward T. Tijan. The rest of the bomber’s crew parachuted to safety.
In Big Poison’s crew was Togglier Sergeant Jacob Zuckerman (32179227). The son of Rose Zuckerman, of 3150 Rochambeau Ave. in Manhattan, his name appears on page 478 of American Jews in World War II. He received the Air Medal.
______________________________
Second Lieutenant William Stanley Schoenfeld
Sergeant Hymie Mehlman
8th Air Force
850th Bomb Squadron, 490th Bomb Group
(EBay seller spsw1967 offers remarkably realistic, detailed, hand-painted reproductions of the insignia of USAAF, AVG, and USMC WW II combat squadrons, among which is this nice example of the 850th Bomb Squadron’s flak-evading mutt.)
Other combat losses not involving enemy action…
During the above-mentioned mission to Chemnitz, a mid-air collision occurred between two B-17G Flying Fortresses of the 490th Bomb Group’s 850th Bomb Squadron: Aircraft 43-38699, and 43-38167 (Lucky Strike), collided at an altitude of 17,000 feet, in the vicinity of Mittersheim, Moselle, France.
From B-17G 43-38699, piloted by 1 Lt. Marshall C. Dunn, there emerged three survivors: The bomber’s radio operator (S/Sgt. George A. Naifeh), and two gunners (S/Sgts. Dean R. Smith and Osvil F. Johnston). The crew (list from France – Crashes 39-45) comprised:
Pilot: Dunn – KIA Co-Pilot: 2 Lt. Jack O. Philley – KIA Navigator: 2 Lt. Helmer O. Baland – KIA Togglier: S/Sgt. Donald B. Mayew – KIA Togglier: S/Sgt. Edward J. Mulvihill – KIA Flight Engineer: T/Sgt. Clarence H. McKinney – KIA Radio Operator: S/Sgt. Osvil F. Johnston – Survived Gunner: S/Sgt. Fred H. Horton – KIA Gunner: S/Sgt. Dean R. Smith – Survived Gunner: S/Sgt. George A. Naifeh – Survived
From Lucky Strike, piloted by 1 Lt. William Seymour Schoenfeld, there emerged four survivors, who presumably survived by parachuting from their B-17: Lt. Schoenfeld himself, 2 Lt. Raymond D. Schar (one of two co-pilots aboard the plane), flight engineer (Sgt. Frank M. Alexander, Jr.), and a gunner (Sgt. Irwin H. Wrampe). The crew (list also from France – Crashes 39-45) consisted of:
Pilot: Schoenfeld – Survived Co-Pilot: Lt. Jack R. Owen – KIA Co-Pilot: 2 Lt. Raymond D. Schar – Survived Navigator: 2 Lt. Garry I. Leonard – KIA Bombardier: F/O Bradell – KIA Flight Engineer: Sgt. Frank M. Alexander, Jr. – Survived Radio Operator: Mehlman – KIA Gunner: Cpl. Drayton P. Mannies – KIA Gunner: Sgt. Irwin H. Wrampe – Survived
Lt. Schoenfeld and his radio operator, Sgt. Hymie Mehlman, are most definitely listed in American Jews in World War II: The former on page 433, with the notation that he received the Air Medal and Purple Heart, and the latter on page 49, with the notation that he received the Purple Heart.
Lt. Schoenfeld (0-694266) was the husband of Charlotte Schoenfeld, and the son of Abraham and Antoinette (Weiss) Schoenfeld, of 4515 12th Ave., Brooklyn, where he was born on January 3, 1921 – just over a hundred and two years ago. He passed away on November 27, 2002. His name can be found on page 433 of American Jews in World War II, with the notation that he received the Air Medal and Purple Heart.
Cpl. Hymie Mehlman (19181734) was born in Manhattan on June 1, 1923. His parents were Charles (8/15/96-3/26/66) and Dora (Appelbaum) (4/30/96-2/1/79) Mehlman, and his sister Shirley Ann (5/12/30-12/12/06), who resided at 3546 Whiteside Street in Los Angeles. His brother Jacob (“Jack”) Bernard Mehlman (7/2/21-5/24/18) possibly lived at 2032 Palm Grove, also in L.A.
Cpl. Mehlman married Miriam Frances (Licker), of 801 North Mott Street, Los Angeles, on September 14, 1944 in California. The couple had one child, Bruce Raymond, who was born on June 28, 1945, almost five months after his father’s death; Bruce Raymond passed away on January 1, 2009.
Cpl. Mehlman, whose name appears on page 49 of American Jews in World War II, was awarded the Purple Heart, and is buried at Hollywood Forever Cemetery in Los Angeles.
In the image below, published on page 43 of Rank’n File – The Spirit of 44-D! (the class 44-D graduation album of the Rankin Aeronautical Academy at Tulare, California – via Army Air Forces Collection – Historical Documents from World War II), Cpl. Mehlman – at the time of the photo, Aviation Cadet Mehlman – stands at far left. Given his status as an Cadet, it would seem that he became a radio operator after having “washed out” of pilot training.
The other men – all members are Squadron C – are, left to right:
H.A. Oliver J.J. Mehlhoff E.E. Mecker W.A. Majors R.H. McMillen At rear center in cap and scarf stands Instructor Bertram
______________________________
Second Lieutenant David Kames (Kaminkowitz)
8th Air Force
860th Bomb Squadron, 493rd Bomb Group
(From “100 Missions” (1945), here’s the emblem of the 493rd Bomb Group.)
(Though Maurer and Maurer’s Combat Squadrons of the Air Force, World War II, indicates that the 860th Bomb Squadron had no squadron emblem, Battlefield.Store on EBay, describes this insignia as the emblem of the 860th Bomb Squadron.)
A few of my prior posts mentioning Jewish airmen in the 8th and 15th Air Forces recounted incidents in which their aircraft, on missions to Germany, landed behind Soviet lines in Eastern Europe, due to fuel exhaustion and / or combat damage, with their crews eventually returning American military control. At least one such incident occurred on February 6, when un-nicknamed B-17G 43-38593 of the 493rd Bomb Group’s 860th Bomb Squadron, piloted by 2 Lt. Warren P. Whitson, Jr., with his eight crewmen, disappeared during the mission to Chemnitz.
As recorded in Missing Air Crew Report 12235, “Very little is known as to the whereabouts of A/C 593. At 1145 hours or approximately one half hour after target time, Lt. Whitson, pilot of A/C/ 593 radioed that he was proceeding to Russia. Later, at 1330, a message from 3D Air Division instructed Lt. Whitson to proceed to Motala (58 32 N, 15 02 E) in Sweden. Last position of A/X ascertained from radio message. – No further information on A/C 593 is available at this time.”
Whitson, Warren P., Jr. – 2 Lt. – Pilot Morrow, Charles H., Jr. – 2 Lt. – Co-Pilot Kames, David – 2 Lt. – Navigator Flesher, Robert A. – 2 Lt. – Bombardier McClure, Ronald W. – Sgt. – Flight Engineer Magee, Robert S. – Sgt. – Radio Operator Justice, Ora G. – Sgt. – Gunner (Ball Turret) Kelly, Robey J. – Sgt. – Gunner (Waist) Dyrud, Kenneth M. – Sgt. – Gunner (Tail)
Lt. Whiton’s crew resumed flying combat missions, only to be shot down by an Me-109 in B-17G 43-39070 (S) on the April 7, 1945 mission to Gustrow, as reported in MACR 13890. They were fortunate once again, for the entire crew survived, all returning to military control from mid-April to early May. With their date of return to American military control listed, they were:
Whitson, Warren P., Jr. – 2 Lt. – Pilot – 5/2/45 Morrow, Charles H., Jr. – 2 Lt. – Co-Pilot – 5/5/45 Kames, David – 2 Lt. – Navigator – 5/2/45 Flesher, Robert A. – 2 Lt. – Bombardier – 5/1/45 Rinaldi, Carmen C. – T/Sgt. – Flight Engineer – 5/2/45 Magee, Robert S. – Sgt. – Radio Operator – 4/15/45 Long, James C. – S/Sgt. – Gunner (Ball Turret) – 4/15/45 Belsinger, Robert H. – Sgt. – Gunner (Waist) – 4/15/45 Gardner, Thomas T. – S/Sgt. – Gunner (Tail) – 4/15/45 Meyers, James W. – Sgt. – Radio Countermeasures – 4/15/45
It can be seen that the officers (pilot, co-pilot, navigator, and bombardier), and radio operator (Magee), were identical on both missions.
Among Lt. Whitson’s crew was 2 Lt. David Kames (0-2060303), the bomber’s navigator. The location of the POW camp (camps?) where he spent the European war’s final month is unknown, but based on postwar reports by fellow crewmen, it seems that the men – who returned to Allied control from one week to nearly a month after having been shot down – were never at any once location for a truly lengthy interval.
Research via Ancestry.com revealed that David Kames was born on Feb. 17, 1919 – as David Kaminkowitz – to Philip and Luba (Kartt) Kaminkowitz. He retained that surname through October of 1940, when he signed his Draft Registration Card – and was thereafter known, in military and civilian life – as David Kames, under which name he married Martha Siegel (later his wife, “Molly”?) in 1941. The couple’s wartime address was 5908 20th Ave., in a place called Brooklyn.
David Kames passed away on April 15, 1996. Continuing with the theme of Jewish-soldiers’-names-not-present-in-the-1947-compilation-American Jews in World War II, his name is likewise absent from that volume.
As “David Kaminkowitz”, here’s David Kames’ portrait – via Ancestry.com – in the 1936 edition of the Erasmus Hall High School yearbook
Taken on January 4, 1945, here’s a portrait of the Whitson crew, with Lt. Whitson standing far left. Going by his facial features in the portrait above, it looks as if Lt. Kames is standing at far right, in the rear row. (USAAF photo B-62290AC – A10478)
This picture was taken on April 6, 1945, one day before the Whitson crew was shot down on the Gustrow mission. Once again going by “looks”, I believe Lt. Kames is fourth from left. The airman standing third from left is wearing a ushanka (ушанка) – the universally-recognized Russian fur cap – probably a souvenir of the crew’s sojourn in Soviet territory after the mission of February 6. Lt. Warren P. Whitson stands at far right as the crew collectively contemplates someone’s “short snorter“. (USAAF photo 62301AC – A10513)
From the American Air Museum in Britain, this image shows B-17s of the 860th Bomb Squadron, with 43-39070 – S – flown by the Whitson crew of April 7 – in foreground. Nicely visible are the red wing and tail stripes of the 493rd. (Photo UPL36820.)
In terms of information about this crew’s missions of February 6 and April 7, Missing Air Crew Reports 12235 and 13890 – which respectively cover those two dates – are confusing in organization, as most of the documentation for both MACRs pertain to the April 7 mission. This includes transcripts of the Group Intelligence Officer’s interviews of Lieutenants Flesher and Morrow. These accounts are fascinating in recounting the highly varied (extraordinarily dangerous and threatening, or, rather indifferent to ostensibly benign) attitudes of German military personnel and civilians towards Allied POWs just before the war’s end, and, the chaos and disorder prevailing in that country at the time. One interesting facet of Lt. Flesher’s account: Knowledge about the 493rd Bomb Group (down to aircraft serial numbers!) available to the Germans.
Transcripts of these transcripts follow below:
Lieutenant Morrow:
INTERROGATION OF CHARLES H. MORROW, 2nd Lt, AC, 0-775970, 860th BOMB SQUADRON, ESCAPED PRISONER OF WAR.
On the 7th of April I was flying as co-Pilot with Lt. Whitson and crew on a mission to Gustrov, Germany. The formation was attacked by enemy fighters about three minutes before the I.P. I saw only one ME 109. The bomb bay of our aircraft was set on fire after an attack from 6 o’clock high by this plane. The A/C was flown out of formation and the bombs jettisoned. Shortly after this, the oxygen system caught fire and the bail out order was given. It is believed that the engineer, S/Sgt Carmen Rinaldi, was the first to jump. There were 10 men on the plane. However, only 9 chutes were seen and Rinaldi has not been accounted for at this date.
I landed in the vicinity of Neustadt. A civilian farmer was waiting for me when I landed. My left shoulder was fractured and I had a little difficulty in getting out of the harness. The farmer did not help, but rather threatened me. He started me off down a road, and about a mile along, I saw Lt Whitson who was in the custody of several civilian guards. They took us to a farm house, where we met Lt David Kames. A Luftwaffe captain came in and we were taken to an Airdrome at Neustadt where we were put in separate cells. It was 36 hours before we were fed or given medical attention. After this interval, we were given some bread and margarine. We stayed at this base for seven days. Since we were hungry, we asked the major in charge if we couldn’t be sent to a regular P/W camp. He agreed, and shortly thereafter, we were sent to the railroad station, but no train arrived. So we waited by the road for motor transport. None came. The two guards in charge agreed to send us to a nearby political camp where forty RAF and US flyers were being held. Again there was little to eat. Staying overnight at Beuerline, we moved the next day to a small village. For five days we were kept in a barn. Here, Red Cross packages ware given to us. After 5 days, the little group started on the road again, heading north toward Lubeck. Marches were about 25 miles a day. We finally wound up at Lebenz, about 40 miles southeast of Lubeck. We were all in fairly bad physical condition. The guards were rather brutal in urging the party along and appeared to be quite disgusted with the whole proceedings. There were roughly three guards to each man. The party, which started out composed of 43 men, arrived at Lebenz with some 60 officers and enlisted men; RAF, US and Canadians.
The evening of the arrival, the German major in charge of us, told Major Polleson, a US pilot of B-24s, that he was disgusted with us and was going to leave us where we were to be over run and picked up by the advancing British. Four German guards, volunteers, were left with us. The following morning, British tanks came in. Several British soldiers took over the German guards.
From there on in, the British took care of me as well as the other Allied P/Ws.
The Germans interrogated me the first night at Beuerline, asking for my name, rank, age and position on crew. Also if I was married, number of children, what part of the US I was from, my wife’s address. I refused to answer these latter questions, although my wallet which was taken from me, contained all the required information and also L 62. The interrogator asked about my bomb group and our assigned target. The interrogator was an officer and was not harsh or brutal during interrogation. He did not threaten, although he couldn’t understand why I didn’t answer all of his questions. No medical attention was given to me by the Germans who claimed facilities and attendants were not available because of many German wounded.
Lieutenant Flesher:
INTERROGATION OF ROBERT A. FLESHER, 2nd Lt., A.C., ESCAPED PRISONER OF WAR.
The assigned target for our Group was Gustrov, Germany, about; 85 miles Northwest of Berlin. The data was April 7, 1945.
Just after leaving the I.P. and while on the bomb run an ME 109, attacked our aircraft from five o’clock high. Our aircraft was hit in the bomb bay, probably by incendiary bullets; at any rate a fire was started in the bomb bay. We dropped out of formation, jettisoned our bombs (incendiary and G.P.), and exhausted both of our fire extinguishers. The fire continued to spread and it became evident that we could not put it out. After it appeared that the plane would explode at any minute the pilot gave the signal to bail out. I was the last one to bail out, and prior to leaving the plane I made an examination of the other positions to make sure that everyone had left. When it came my turn to leave the plane, the escape hatch had developed a malfunction and I was unable to get it open. My escape was made by diving through the bomb bay doors which were burning furiously; the metal was red hot. My face, ears and nose were burned, which necessitated medical treatment later.
My landing was made near Rastow, a small German town. Upon landing I was told that nine chutes had been observed coming from our plane. I was immediately gathered in by four German civilians who searched me for a gun and then took me into town to get the burgomaster. The burgomaster then marched me to the Wehrmacht headquarters, which was in a thick forest beautifully camouflaged.
S/Sgt. Thomas T. Gardner, tail gunner in our plane, and I were first taken before an officer who appeared to be the Commanding Officer and who became highly indignant at the burgomaster for bringing us there. He took the position that we should have been shot upon reaching the ground, as it appeared that our jettisoned bombs had hit a German school house, killing a number of German children. We were then stripped of our clothing and taken outside to be shot. At this time some Nazi official put in his appearance, asked us if we were Canadians, and when it developed that we were Americans he ordered the other Germans to give us back our clothes. We were than blindfolded, marched down the road a mile or so and put on a hay wagon where we were taken to a house which was used as a radio station. After spending the night in separate cells, we were taker back to the Headquarters, and then taken to the Deutsche Luftwaffe on a bus where we were treated extremely well, being fed roast beef, lettuce and other palatable articles of food. Some of the German airmen talked to me, were very friendly, in a low state of morale and ware extremely bitter against the Nazi party and against the S.S. troops. Since this was not an interrogation center and since they made no effort to get any information from me, it was my own impression that this was no “come on” gag, but was sincere.
That night were taken by train to Stendal, which is a Stalag interrogation center for airmen. I stayed there for four days and three nights in solitary confinement. We were fed two cups of soup and a piece of black bread per day.
On the fourth day, I was taken before a German Major for interrogation. He asked me my name, rank and serial number which I disclosed. He then attempted to get other information, such as my Group number, my Mother’s name, what air force I belonged to, name of our assigned target with I.P., whether it was an all-out effort on the part of the air force. I refused to answer these questions. He then stated that this was a mere routine examination and that he already knew the answers to the questions which he had propounded. He then reached in his desk and pulled out a paper with a picture of a B-17 with the 493rd Group markings, the number of our aircraft and our call number. After this he pulled out a book, turned to the page that was for the 493rd Bomb Group and showed me the number of all of our planes with call numbers, the names of most of the pilots and the squadron commanders. It is interesting to note that Major Sianis, former CO of the 862nd was not listed. He also had the name of Lt. Col. Fitzgerald. He then asked me how it was that Col. Helton was not with the 493rd Group any more. The interrogator then indicated on the map the route which we had taken, giving timings of fighter rendezvous, time of takeoff etc. He gave no indication as to where he obtained his Information, and the amount which he had at his finger tips was amazing. The interrogator was very friendly, offered me cigarettes and was respectful at all times.
After interrogation I was taken back to the cell for more solitary confinement. Colonel Crawford of the 446th Bomb Group made arrangements that night with a German Lieutenant interrogator for our escape. The Interrogator gave Col. Crawford the key to our cells, and that night we took off, 29 Americans and one R.A.F. navigator from England. The German Lieutenant and one German Sgt. went with us where we stayed at a barn for two days waiting on the approaching Americans. During this time the two Germans guarded us and prevented other Germans from detecting us, the understanding being that when the Americans rescued us we would take care of these two Germans and see that they were decently taken care of.
On April 13th we saw an advancing column in the distance but were unable to determine whether it was friendly or enemy. When an FW 190 flew overhead and was fired upon by these troops we knew that it was one of our columns. We were them rescued by the 5th Armored Division and the two Germans were later turned over to American forces with instruction that they should receive fair treatment.
______________________________
Sergeant Isidore Ifshin
Sergeant Norman Babe Lubinsky
12th Air Force
447th Bomb Squadron, 321st Bomb Group
(Via the 57th Bomb Wing, here’s the insignia of the 447th Bomb Squadron, from Vintage Leather Jackets.)
Moving south to Italian latitudes, Sergeants Isidore “Sonny” Ifshin and Norman Babe Lubinsky, both members of the 321st Bomb Group’s 447th Bomb Squadron, were captured after their B-25 Mitchell bombers were shot down by anti-aircraft fire during a mission to the Roverto Railroad Station.
Sergeant Ifshin (32821301), the flight engineer of B-25J 43-36240 (MAYBE) was among the bomber’s five survivors, all of whom escaped by parachuting from their damaged plane, which was piloted by 1 Lt. Earl H. Remmel (completed 67 missions) 2 Lt. Leslie J. Speer (completed 15 missions), neither of whom survived.
The pilots managed to keep their damaged B-25 under control long enough to give their crew a chance to escape, but were unable to leave the spinning and broken aircraft before it crashed into mountains below. Both men were killed when MAYBE crashed at Pannone, as reported in Luftgaukommando Report ME 2783.
As described by S/Sgt. Robert Cubbage in Missing Air Crew Report 12134, “I saw a ship after his right engine was feathered and it was sliding off to the left losing altitude. Four parachutes opened out of the ship. The plane then went into an inverted spin, tail down, to crash about half way up the side of a mountain at north end of Lake Gorda.
One of the chutes floated over the mountain peak and into the valley toward Roverto. The other three men went down on the side of the peak.”
2 Lt. John B. Allendorph reported, “I saw the ship go into a spin and almost immediately one chute opened behind it. Then I very short order, two more left the plane. It fell for a good length of time then two more chutes appeared, very close together. I didn’t see the plane hit although I watched it until I lost it against the mountainside. I am positive that there were five parachutes that came from the plane.”
Bombardier Lt. Darrel, in his postwar Casualty Questionnaires for Lieutenants Remmel and Speer, reported that, “Plane was very badly damaged by flak. Lt. Remmel managed to keep it from going out of control as long as possible but as we were preparing to leave, tail section and left wing broke up and plane went into spin.” “1st Lt. Harlan Tulley and T/Sgt. Isidore Ifshin [bailed out] from front hatch, T/Sgt. Bernard Guild and Sgt. Albert Barrett [bailed out] from rear hatch. All men bailed out immediately upon receiving order from 1st Lt. Earl Remmel, pilot.” Lt. Darrel also reported that Lt. Remmel, “Ordered all crew members to leave ship. Said he would hold it as steady as possible. … He told me he was not wounded just before I bailed out.” At the same time, Lt. Speer, “Was helping pilot hold ship while crew members bailed out,” and, “climbing from co-pilot’s seat preparing to bail out.”
Sgt. Ifshin was captured at 1500 hours, 3 kilometers north of Pannone, near Rovereto, by “3./SS Police-Regiment Schlanders”. According to notes at the Ifshin Batterman Family Tree at Ancestry.com, “Sonny bailed out and landed in a tree. … The Italians spotted him in the tree & had him jump to the ground, then turned him over to the Germans. He injured his ankle upon jumping from the tree, and was forced to march from Italy to Germany in the snow. … He had flown 60 missions.”
Sgt. Ifshin was eventually interned at Stalag 7A (Moosburg).
His parents were Morris (5/1/96-3/18/82) and Jacha “Yetta” (Kaplan) (9/15/00-6/25/82) Ifshin, his family residing at 500 Southern Boulevard. Born in Manhattan on September 8, 1924, he passed away on December 15, 2017.
His name – a repeating pattern here?! – is absent from American Jews in World War II.
A wedding portrait of Irving’s parents Jacha and Morris. This image, and the related photos that follow, are all from the Ifshin Batterman Family Tree at Ancestry.com.
Irving Ifshin, presumably photographed in the United States.
In this composite image, the photo on the left shows Irving Ifshin during training at Miami Beach, while the right image shows Irving and his mother Yetta in front of the family’s candy shop … at 500 Southern Boulevard in the Bronx?
MAYBE, at the 321st Bomb Group’s base in Corsica. The plane is a natural-metal (un-camouflage-painted) aircraft. Unfortunately, the plane’s individual identification letter – painted on the outer surface of its fins and rudders – isn’t visible in this picture.
As the bomber’s flight engineer, one of Sgt. Ifshin’s responsibilities would have been to have manned the aircraft’s upper gun turret, next to which he’s sitting in this photo.
Here’s most of the crew of MAYBE: At least four of the men in this photo were aboard the aircraft on the mission of February 6.
T/Sgt. Harold R. Bauer (not aboard MAYBE on the February 6 mission) T/Sgt. Ifshin – Survived T/Sgt. Bernard Robert Guild? (Radio Operator) – Survived
This image, via FindAGrave contributor Patti Johnson, shows pilot Lt. Remmel as an Aviation Cadet. His FindAGrave biographical profile is here. Given that he’s listed in the Missing Air Crew Report as a Lieutenant, while his tombstone indicates his rank as Captain, I suppose the latter rank was a posthumous promotion.
This composite image of Co-Pilot 2 Lt. Leslie Thomas Speer is comprised of photos via FindAGrave contributors patootie (left photo), and, PRINCESSBARBI (right photo). The left image of Lt. Speer is from Army Air Forces Training Command 1943 Walnut Ridge, Arkansas – Class 43-E (May, 1943), while the newspaper article on the right, probably from March or April of 1945, reports on his (then) “Missing in Action” status. There are actually two FindAGrave commemorative pages for Lt. Speer: Here, and here.
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447th Bomb Squadron, 321st Bomb Group
A bombardier, Sgt. Norman Babe Lubinsky (39577232) and his crew in un-nicknamed B-25J 43-27730 – piloted by 1 Lt. Jackson R. Didson – had a more benign fate than the men of Maybe: 43-27730’s entire crew survived by parachuting. According to Luftgaukommando Report ME 2784, their bomber, shot down by Anti-Aircraft Battalion 454, crashed 3 kilometers west of Schio (south-east of Roverto … or … 7 ½ kilometers east of Roverto, at Piazza.
As one of three 447th Bomb Squadron B-25s lost on February 6, there was a degree of ambiguity in terms of a report of the planes’ loss, as reflected by Operations Officer Captain J. Maurice Wiginton in Missing Air Crew Report 12131. Namely, “Inasmuch as there were three aircraft involved (the entire lead element) and there occurred confusion and dispersion of the aircraft that followed, due to the loss of the lead element, it becomes difficult to disseminate all reports of returning crews. No one observer can give a complete sequence of happenings regarding each or all three aircraft in distress.
In light of the above, it is reasonable to conclude that the following did happen to plane 730: At approximately bomb-release point, the plane was hit by flak and immediately fell out of formation and dived to about 7000 feet. As the plane was in a dive two parachutes were seen to leave the plane. The plane leveled out and at about 7000 feet and one engine was feathered.
The last that anyone saw of it, it seemed to be under control and going west, just north of Lake Gorda. The formation tried to contact him by radio but failed.
The third 447th Bomb Squadron loss on February 6 was B-25J 43-27542, Superstitious Aloysius. Piloted by 1 Lt. Carl W. Cahoon, the plane’s entire crew of 6 survived, as reported in MACR 12133 and Luftgaukommando Report ME 2782.
The son of Paul I. (1/24/82-2/16/60) and Lena L. (Gordon) (12/15/85-1960) Lubinsky and brother of Louis and Sam, Norman Lubinsky and his family resided at 130 West Colton Ave., in Loma Linda, California. Born in Los Angeles on March 30, 1919, he passed away at the age of 93 on April 19, 2012. Though his name appeared in a list of liberated POWs published on June 12, 1945, his POW camp is unknown, and his name is absent (once again) from American Jews in World War II.
About a month before becoming a prisoner of war (and having his name recorded in Missing Air Crew Report 12131), Sgt. Lubinsky’s statement concerning the loss of a B-25 was recorded in MACR 11713.
Specifically, “On the mission on January 18th I was Bombardier on the plane flying on Lt. Murchland’s left wing. Just after coming off the target it was obvious that Lt. Murchland’s plane was in trouble. The first thing that I saw leave the ship looked like a bomb, but it was a delayed jump and the chute opened at about 1000 feet. In just a few seconds another came out and opened, and then two more blossomed out. Then it seemed a minute before the last man that I saw jump came out, and his chute opened immediately. While the last man that I saw jump was floating to the ground that the ship went into an 86 degree bank, made a right turn, and dived onto the bank of the river (Adige).”
There were four survivors from the six crewmen aboard this aircraft, B-25J 43-4069, piloted by 1 Lt. Robert K. Murchland. The identification and recovery of the aircraft and crew is covered in Luftgaukommando Report ME 2735.
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Leading Aircraftman Woolf “Willie” Nerden
England
Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve
Number 140 Wing
In the Royal Air Force, Leading Aircraftman Woolf “Willie” Nerden (1440455), of No. 140 Wing Royal Air Force, was killed in the crash of Dakota III (C-47) KG630, piloted by W/O Peter M. Oleinikoff. The aircraft struck a hill at South Downs Folkington, East Sussex, in bad weather, eventuating in the loss of all 23 crew and passengers.
Born in Poplar, London, in 1921, he was the son of John and Hannah (Hirsch) Nerden, and brother of Joseph and Phillip, all of 2 British Street, Bow, London, E3. Buried at East Ham (Marlow Road) Jewish Cemetery, Essex, England (at Block U, Grave 29), the inscription on his Matzeva states, “Deeply mourned by parents – Brothers and relatives – Remembered by all”.
Notice of his death appeared in The Jewish Chronicle on March 2, 1945, while his name is recorded on page 218 of Volume I of Henry Morris’ We Will Remember Them.
You can read much more about his life, and the accident that claimed the crew and passengers of KG630, at Cathie Hewitt’s magisterial website Remembering the Jews of WW2. (Which incidentally features biographical records of Jews in the Merchant Navy and Royal Navy.)
This image of LAC Nerden’s matzeva is by FindAGrave contributor Mike Ganly.
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Matelot Radio (Aerial Wireless Operator / Gunner) Sylvain Isaac Boucris
France
Aéronautique Navale en Grande-Bretagne (A.N.G.B.)
Forces Navales Françaises Libres (F.N.F.L.)
Number 4 Wireless School, Medley, England
To conclude, yet another non-combat accident.
Matelot Radio (Aerial Wireless Operator / Gunner) Sylvain Isaac Boucris, assigned to No. 4 Wireless School, Medley, England / F.N.F.L. (Forces Navales Françaises Libres) – (Aeronautique Navale), of the aéronautique navale en Grande-Bretagne (ANGB), was killed in the crash of a Percival Proctor III (LZ595) during flight training over England. The aircraft – piloted by F/Sgt. Christian Henry Gerner – crashed at Oswestry, Shropshire.
Born in Mahdia, Tunisia, on February 28, 1925, Matelot Radio Boucris’ place of burial is unknown. His name appears on page 109 of the rare volume Livre d’Or et de Sang.
This image of Matelot Radio Sylvain Isaac Boucris is from page 109 of Livre d’Or et de Sang. His family origins and place of burial are unknown.
I was very (very!) fortunate to access and scan the first (and only) edition of Livre d’Or et de Sang. This copy is from the University of Toronto.
Exactly four months after the crash of Proctor LZ595, pilot F/Sgt. Christian Henry Gerner’s father, Chris H. Gerner, sent the following letter to Officer Commanding, Records, Department of Air, in Melbourne, requesting information about the accident that claimed the life of his son and Matelot Boucris… The letter was found in F/Sgt. Gerner’s Casualty File, via the National Archives of Australia.
Here’s a nice video of a Proctor in flight – “Percival Proctor and Mew Gulls – Shuttleworth Vintage Airshow” – circa October of 2022, at the YouTube channel of Patrick Clear.
References
Four Books
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
Freeman, Roger A., The Mighty Eighth – Units, Men and Machines (A History of the US 8th Army Air Force), Doubleday and Company, Inc., Garden City, N.Y., 1970
Freeman, Roger A., The B-17 Flying Fortress Story: Design – Production – History, Arms & Armour Press, London, England, 1998
Morris, Henry, Edited by Gerald Smith, We Will Remember Them – A Record of the Jews Who Died in the Armed Forces of the Crown 1939 – 1945, Brassey’s, United Kingdom, London, 1989
Here’s a digression from the focus of most of my posts, which typically pertain to the military service of Jewish soldiers, sailors, and airmen: Instead, here’s a transcript of an essay that appeared in The Jewish Exponent that is (to engage in a double entendre!) rather pacific, both symbolically and geographically: It’s a social and cultural study of Jews and Jewish life in the (then) Territory of Hawaii, from almost eight decades ago.
Published on September 10, 1943, the article, by Army Chaplain Harry R. Richmond, mentions prominent Jews (or at least, people known to be Jews!) in Hilo and Kauai, and then moves on to a discussion of Jewish life in Honolulu, the center of Jewish life in the islands, where resided – at the time – fifty known Jewish families. He describes the community as being stratified into three social and cultural layers, in terms of their sense of identification – or lack thereof – with their heritage, let alone ongoing historical experience of the Jewish people as a whole.
While analytical, the tone of the essay is also critical if not subtly polemical, one of Chaplain Richmond’s assertions being, “These three layers of Honolulu Jewry have not yet found organic unity, or spiritual solidarity.” (Oh, that’s a mild one. He has even stronger things to say!)
The Chaplain then segues into a discussion of where (?) and how (?!) the Jews of Hawaii have thus far maintained a sense of community and followed religious observance. There’s no schul (in 1943, at least) as such, a Congregational Church providing the setting for a Jewish center. Only with the ironic advent of the Second World War has the J.W.B. (Jewish Welfare Board) become the effective and genuine hub of Jewish life in the islands – renting office space in a corner of the aforementioned Church – due to the simple fact that Jewish servicemen have become the largest group of Jews on the island, especially in the sense of participating in religious services.
This leads to a final question: Does the increasing social and organizational activity of the Jewish Welfare Board’s center portend a stronger, more vibrant Jewish community in the Islands? Chaplain Richmond seems to think so.
But, there’s more: The Chaplain’s essay mentions the Seders that were conducted for Jewish military personnel in 1942 and 1943. Pictures of the latter event were published in the May 9, 1943 issue of the Forverts(erev Pesach having occurred on the evening of Monday, April 19, 1943) and follow Chaplain Richmond’s Exponent essay. These pictures were featured in the Forverts’ photo section, which appeared as the final page of the newspaper’s weekday edition, but on Sundays – as per the May 9 issue – in the paper’s “Art Section” (Section 3), which typically comprised four or more pages.
Finally, a passing observation of the WW II-era Forverts…
An interesting aspect of this newspaper was revealed when I reviewed it for articles and photos of Jewish WW II servicemen, published between 1940 and 1946, of which there are very (very!) many. It soon became apparent that the Forverts had an intriguing policy – regarding English-language photo captions – of italicizing words pertaining to Jewish holidays, rituals, religious objects, and religious observance. And not only that. In many cases, a very short definition of these words – implying that they were unknown to the paper’s readership? – was included in the text.
I’ve no idea why a newspaper aimed at an Jewish audience – one would assume already intimately familiar with commonly known aspects Jewish religious practice? – would have followed such a policy.
Unless of course, even as long ago as the early 1940s, such awareness among the Jews of the United States was already waning.
Anyway, on to Chaplain Richmond’s essay…!
WAR WAKES UP HAWAIIAN JEWRY
Although Pearl Harbor is today one of the magic words in the American language, little is known among American Jews about the Jews of the Pacific resident in Hawaii. Chaplain Harry R. Richmond, only Jewish Chaplain who has served the American Army in two wars, here draws a sharp picture of the Jewish community of Hawaii, etching his background and throwing light on the impact that war has had.
JEWISH TRADITION finds comfort in the legend that the Lord prepares the balm before the bruise.
It can point to the emergence of the academy at Jabneh [Yavneh] before the fall of the Temple at Jerusalem; in the discovery of America before the expulsion from Spain; to the Balfour Declaration preceding the Nuremberg Proclamation for sustaining evidence. The realists among us might find a striking parallel elsewhere: even though, admittedly, in the reverse order. The might look at the destruction of Jewish communities in Europe and observe the emergence of Jewish life somewhere on the American Continent. Mexico, Porto Rico [sic], Santo Domingo are budding promises of new centers of Jewry in the Americas.
The Hawaiian Islands are perhaps another possibility.
The chain of islands in the vast ocean, truly called Pacific Paradise, is still virgin soil for the explorer, pioneer and adventurer, Jew or Gentile. As one of the new-comers to these islands, I confess, it is terra-incognita to most of us.
What is the outlook for increased Jewish life on these islands? The same as for any other American group, is the answer. The islands are not allergic to Jews. Yet it is strange that so few Jews made their homes here, Honolulu not excluded. In Hilo, the metropolis of Hawaii, the largest of the islands, only four Jews thus far have made their homes here, Honolulu not excluded: Mr. Louis Amiel, or Sephardic vintage, stems from Smyrna and is one of the leading merchants of the city. He is philanthropic, civic minded, orthodox. In the absence of a J.W.B. worker in that area he acts as their representative voluntarily, faithfully and most generously. Doctor Archie Orenstein, a fine physician, represents the other Jewish family in that city, in the island. He hails from San Francisco, he is distinguished in his profession. He is a credit of his people and country. Two more: Miss Fussfeld and Mr. Ziff complete the Jewish quarter at Hawaii. The Jewish population of Kauai is one-fourth that of Hawaii, there being only one Jew on that island, Mr. Martin Dreyer, who reached these islands from his native Germany. During the 30 years or more he lived in Kauai, he prospered, occupied offices of trust and honor, including that of postmaster of Lihue, and won a distinguished name in the community. The last two Seder Services, conducted for the American servicemen there in 1942 and 1943, represented his first contact with Jewish life in his 30 years in Kauai. Dr. and Mrs. Benjamin Shapiro, Mr. Hyman Meyer, and Mr. Hyman Wachs, of Mauai, complete the roster of Jews for that island. The islands of Molokau and Lanai have no Jews.
It is the City of Honolulu, in the island of Oahu, that may lay claim to Jewish community life.
Three Layers of Jews
Two years ago and more, when I first came here, Mr. I. Weinstein, then J.W.B. director of this area, for a decade and more, informed me that the Jewish population of Honolulu numbered about 50 families. Collectively they exhibited a pattern of Jewish life not uncommon to America. They represented there, as similar groupings elsewhere, three social levels peculiar to the stream of American Jewry: The first and oldest group, properly styled by Prof. Salo Baron perverted Marranos, numbered the few who succeeded to remove consciously every vestige of Jewish consciousness. By marital ties, economic penetration and social solidarity, they have burned all the bridges of a people behind them, and integrated successfully with the tradition and outlook of their newly found homeland. That some Jews still consider them their own is the tragic admission of the weakness of a people. Those who drown will hold fast even to a straw. The second class represents those Jews who are tradition-bound. They constitute the bulk of the Jewish community here. In the main they are American Jews from the Western Coast; they gave up cultural San Francisco for green pastures in Honolulu. If the first layer of Honolulu Jewry is representative of western Europe, in origin and culture, the second layer is East European, in character and background. The third layer, a small minority, embraces those Jews completely “emancipated” from traditional ties, from diaspora dreams, from Hebrew heritage. In that group you will usually find the most productive minds, the most energetic spirits, the most zealous in pursuit and practice of a noble excuse. They gave a cosmopolitan complexion, a world contour, a universalistic pose. Nothing human is alien to them – except Jews or Judaism. The sorrow of every group is their first sorrow; the needs of a people in a far and distant land has urgent claim upon them; for the sovereignty of a submerged race they will sacrifice their lives; but of the dignity of their own people they will have nothing. They are Israel’s cosmopolitan isolationists.
These three layers of Honolulu Jewry have not yet found organic unity, or spiritual solidarity. One of the oldest Jewish settlers here, Jules Levy, erstwhile chairman of the J.W.B. Hawaiian area, is still waiting for the emergence of organized Jewish life here, after nearly half a century of residence in Honolulu. Apparently, the Jewish dead in Honolulu fare better. Ground was recently acquired and a cemetery consecrated for the burial of Mr. Max Lewis: the first Jewish dead to be buried in a Jewish cemetery in these Hawaiian Islands. The living, however, still feed on indifference, intermarriage and much ignorance. Always and everywhere such tendencies threaten the body politic of Israel. Here they constitute a danger point: because no constructive positive program or conserving agencies exist to offset these undermining influences. Elsewhere the devastating microbes are dissolved and neutralized by the healthy corpuscles of a vital organism; here the pernicious germs riot on a body empty of life blood. Negative tendencies inevitably rise to the surface when positive values are in absentia. Synagogal leadership, congregational organization and community interest are still to come, to Honolulu.
The modicum of Jewish life I met, in my early days here, was associated with the Center group. Organized primarily to serve the social proclivities of the tired businessman, it acquired a home to serve that purpose. An unpretentious Congregational Church, house in a very modest wooden frame, raised on a high basement, situated in an isolated spot, neither in the heart of the city, nor in a suburban area, became the home of the Jewish center. The Bnai-B’rith, the only fraternal Jewish organization in Honolulu, began to meet there. The J.W.B., through its representative, rented office space in one corner of the building, used the hall for religious services and the basement for social functions for the Jewish servicemen in the department. The military personnel being the largest group of Jewish men on the island, naturally became the life of the party at the center, especially during festivals and holy days.
In the course of time, obviously, the J.W.B. premises became the hub of Jewish life in Honolulu, and its director, the official Jewish leader in the community. Jewish life in Honolulu, before December 7th, was a minus quantity rather than a positive influence. The Jewish community had its proportionate share of physicians, lawyers and merchants, men of repute and achievement, but little of inspiring leadership. And the absence of it, admit it or not, had a telling effect upon Honolulu Jewry.
Honolulu Jews
It is natural to ask for the circumstances that so shaped Honolulu Jewry. The newcomer, with all deference to the old settlers in the community, is tempted to ask why Honolulu Jewry has achieved less organically than similar groups elsewhere. Negative and positive factors contributed to its singular position. First among the negative influences is the insularity of Honolulu. The metropolis of the Hawaiian Islands is virtually isolated and cut off from the Mainland by five days’ distance to San Francisco. Honolulu, by its geographical position, has no contact with the many turbulent, tortuous and mercurial aspects of Jewish life in America or Europe. It is not linked with the main streams of Jewish life anywhere. What American Jewry feared would overtake it, should immigration of East European Jewry be restricted, is already a fait accompli in Honolulu. Honolulu Jewry, not because of exclusion acts, but chiefly because of natural barriers, is completely isolated from world Jewry. A spiritual self-sufficiency Honolulu has not. Next to insularity I would consider the insufficiency of numbers. At a recent J.W.B. meeting it was disclosed that the directorate of the Jewish community center has not met in the past 12 months. But even that seemed quite plausible in the light of the fact that the entire membership of the Center is exactly one dozen. When plans for the high holy days were considered a few days ago, 25 seats were considered enough for the Honolulu Jewish community. Obviously, when the numbers are so thin, so widespread and scattered, organized mass community work is well-nigh prohibitive. Perhaps the strongest factor militating against Jewish life in Honolulu is the absence of the irritating itch of anti-Semitism. There is no anti-Semitism in Hawaii. There being no scorpions in Honolulu to remind us that we are Jews, we are tempted to forget that we are children of a martyr race. The sum of it explains the absence of the positive factor supremely essential in organized Jewish life. It is the will to live organically as a Jewish community. Where that is present all else follows. For where there is a will there is a way.
War Brings Changes
Much has changed since December 7th, and the status of the Jewish community changed correspondingly. In the exodus that followed that day there were many of the Jewish community. War workers and civilian defense projects have no doubt increased the Jewish population here, but the evacuees have not been replaced. They were the residents; the new arrivals are transients. They are here for the duration, or emergency. Jewish servicemen, too, in all branches of the armed services, have increased proportionately. But facilities to serve them fittingly are still to come. The only evidence of Jewish communal effort is still only at the Jewish community center, on Sunday, at 11 o’clock in the morning. At that time the Jewish Center groups plays host to the Jewish servicemen attending religious services in the center. The services are conducted jointly by Jewish chaplains of the Army and Navy. After the services, the men meet downstairs, in the assembly room, where refreshments are served by the hostesses of the Jewish community and the J.W.B.
The efforts of the Jewish community, however, must not be limited by the Sunday morning service. There is a promising change that augurs well for greater effort in the future. With the recent arrival of Mr. Maurice Schneirov, Director, J.W.B., Hawaiian Area, a spirit of cooperation has begun to make itself manifest in Jewish circles here. It became fully evident in the recent Jewish Welfare Drive here. The quota sought was over-subscribed most generously.
To predict the post-bellum nature of the Jewish community here, not even a prophet would dare. It is no more safe to hazard the nature of the Jewish community in post-war Honolulu than that of post-war Junction City, Kans. Many midwestern towns that were empty of Jews five years ago, now that their seams have burst because of the influx of defense workers, are housing many Jews. Will the Jews take root in those town and prosper, as Jewish communities, long after the hectic days are over?
No one knows!
But the odds are in favor of Honolulu.
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Leaving the Exponent and moving forward to the Forverts, here’s the first page of the paper’s Art Section in the May 9, 1943, issue, with the five photos of the April, 1943 Pesach service appearing below the fold…
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…and, the composite of the photos.
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The photos, one by one, with the English-language caption appearing below each image…
PRAYER FOR FREEDOM AT THE CELEBRATION OF A JEWISH FREEDOM FESTIVAL. – Chaplain Norman Siegel, USA, pictured during Passover services in the auditorium of McKinley High School. A ceremonial dinner, known as the Seder, climaxed the services marking the anniversary of our ancestors’ deliverance from servitude in Egypt.
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“ELI, ELI.” – A singing sailor renders a popular Hebrew melody at the Passover feast held in Honolulu’s McKinley High School. This was one of the twelve Sedorim conducted in the Hawaiian Department. About 850 persons attended.
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PASSOVER EVE IN HONOLULU. – A solemn moment at the star of the Seder for Jewish servicemen in the Hawaiian capital, as Mrs. Linczer, prominent welfare worker, lit the festival candles. Standing behind Mrs. Linczer are Chaplains Siegel and Straus of U.S. Army and Navy, respectively.
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“KIDDUSH.” – Chaplain Norman Siegel, Asst. Dept. Chaplain Hawaiian Department, pronouncing the benediction over a cup of wine at the servicemen’s Seder in Honolulu. Arranged by the Jewish Welfare Board, the traditional Passover feast was attended by high ranking Christian officers. Left to right: Col. R.E. Fraile, Adjutant-General, Hq. Hawaiian Dept.; Col. G.F. Unmacht, Chemical Officer; Chaplain Siegel, Chaplain H. Cerf Straus, USNR; 2nd Lieutenant Gladys Franklyn, ANC.; Mrs. Linczer, Chaplain Alvin Katt, Asst. Dept. Chaplain and Chaplain Pietrek, Post Chaplain, Hickham Field.
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AMERICAN SOLDIERS AND SAILORS of the Jewish faith, attending Passover services at the McKinley High School auditorium in Honolulu.
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Some Links of Note (contemporary Jewish life in Hawaii)
Some opinions; some beliefs, just beg for an explanation, such as the following two comments. They’re from the pair of book reviews that taken together were the impetus for the eventual literary success and continuing cultural influence of Joseph Heller’s 1961 novel Catch-22:
Catch-22 is the strongest repudiation of our civilization, in fiction, to come out of World War II.
…this novel is not merely the best American novel to come out of World War II; it is the best American novel that has come out of anywhere in years.
– Nelson Algren
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…Yossarian’s obsessive concern for survival makes him not only not morally dead, but one of the most morally vibrant figures in recent literature – and a giant of the will beside those weary, wise and wistful prodigals in contemporary novels who always accommodate sadly to American life.
– Robert S. Brustein
Catch-22’s “fate” was in stark contrast to the that of its inadvertent and earlier counterpart, Louis Falstein’s Face of a Hero, which largely vanished from the literary and cultural limelight subsequent to its 1950 publication until its reissue by Steerforth Press 1999 Steerforth Press.
Having touched upon that topic previously, I want to delve into it a little more deeply.
First, though we’re talking about words, the disparity in the fates of the two novels can be better understood through math. Let’s run some numbers, and then run by those numbers. (Don’t worry, I’ll be light with the math!)
First, we’ll look at ratings and reviews for Catch-22.
At GoodReads as of August 31, 2022, Catch-22 had received 786,151 ratings and 20,930 reviews, the latter ranging from 1-star (lowest) to 5-stars (highest). The totals for the ratings are:
At Mr.Bezos’Store (a.k.a. Amazon.com) on the same date, the 50th Anniversary Edition Paperback (April 5, 2011) edition of Catch 22 had received 7,733 reviews, again using a 1-star to 5-star system. The totals for ratings, and reviews within ratings, are:
5 stars – 72% – 5,148 ratings (1,429 with reviews) 4 stars – 14% 1,277 ratings (410 with reviews) 3 stars – 6% – 564 ratings (184 with reviews) 2 stars – 3% – 303 ratings (139 with reviews) 1 star – 5% – 404 ratings (236 with reviews)
Notice especially the marked difference in 5-star reviews between the two platforms, with GoodReads at 40% to Mr.Bezos’Store at 72% (nearly twice as many) while 1- and 2-star reviews are roughly similar, at 3% to 5%, and 6% to 3%, respectively. Well, the purpose and ethos of the two sites is (I suppose?) a little antithetical. One wants to tell you about stuff (as an impetus for getting you to buy or borrow stuff), and the other wants you just to buy. (Stuff.) I think explains the huge disparity in positive ratings between these two sites.
Next, we’ll look at the ratings and reviews for Face of a Hero.
At GoodReads as of August 31, 2022, Face of a Hero had received 16 (yeah, sixteen) ratings and 4 (yep, four) reviews, ranging from 2-star (lowest) to 5-stars (highest). The totals for the ratings are:
At Mr.Bezos-land on the same date, the Steerforth edition of Face of a Hero had received 7 (uh-huh, seven) 1-star to 5-star ratings, with a parallel number of reviews. The totals are:
The difference in the total number of ratings and reviews for the two books – by four to five orders of magnitude – is staggering.
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Next, we’ll look at the number of Oogle “hits” on August 11, 2022, for phrases relevant for the two authors and their books. In each case, I’ll list the text phrase with the smaller number of hits at the bottom of each pair. As you can see, in each case, that smaller number pertains to Louis Falstein or Face of a Hero. Here are the numbers:
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First, title of book and author’s surname:
““Catch-22” Heller”: 5,640,000 “”Face of a Hero” Falstein”: 79,000
That’s a ratio of 71 to 1, in favor of ““Catch-22” Heller” (Oh my!)
A ratio of 100 to 1, in favor or “Novelist “Joseph Heller”” (Gadzooks!!)
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Next, let’s use Oogle’s n-gram viewer, which “…charts the frequencies of any set of search strings using a yearly count of n-grams found in printed sources published between 1500 and 2019 in Google’s text corpora in English, Chinese (simplified), French, German, Hebrew, Italian, Russian, or Spanish.”
For this, I used the phrases “catch-22” and “face of a hero”
Here’s the ngram for “catch-22”. The viewer doesn’t distinguish between the phrase as used as the book title, or, the phrase as a figure of speech or writing entirely unrelated to the novel. Here’s the graph:
Taking a look, some things here just “pop out”.
First, keep in mind that though Heller’s novel was published on November 10, 1961, the ngram curve for catch-22, already stable and “flat” as far back as 1950, remains stable, until it rises commencing in 1967.
It remains at a small plateau until 1970. Then, the curve shows a steeper rise, which I think reflects the release of Mike Nichols’ film Catch-22 on June 24 of that year.
The curve rose at this same rate until 1974.
Then, a year or more before the Vietnam War’s end on April 30, 1975, the curve absolutely skyrockets. It continues at the same rate for about a decade, plateauing from 1984 through 1985, after which – starting in 1986 – it jumps even higher.
The curve fluctuates from that year through 2015, but it’s nevertheless remained at the same general level. I think this post-1985 part of the curve shows how the phrase “catch-22”, whether as a book title or phrase, or both (but probably simply the phrase) had by then become irrevocably cemented into the English language as a concept derived from but now separate from the novel.
By 2020, the curve had levelled off at about 0.0000070. And there we are.
What about “face of a hero”?
The ngram curve, commencing in 1945,sharply peaks in 1950 at about 0.000000120, and by 1952 or 1953 drops just as abruptly. There appears to be a plateau in 1999, but this is probably a random fluctuation, and as such, is unrelated to the book’s reissue by Steerforth.
If we’re comparing numbers, mimicking the ratios in the above three Oogle text searches, the ratio of the high values in the two ngram curves, 0.00000800 (“catch-22”) to 0.000000120 (“face of a hero”), is about 66 to 1, in favor of “catch-22” (Yoiks!)
Stepping back from this melange of mathematics, what these ratios and graphs do is validate a conclusion that’s as intuitive as it is obvious; apparent from the fleeting Catch-22 / Face of a Hero “controversy” of 1998, and even the most cursory observations of literature, film, and popular culture: Catch-22 had an absolutely enormous impact, one which has persisted since the mid-1970s, while Face of a Hero faded into literary obscurity (as do the overwhelming majority of books) all too quickly.
What Catch-22 was, then, was not simply “a book”, though it is a book.
It was; it represented, an idea.
But, what first catapulted Heller’s novel into literary, and then cultural, fame? The answer to that question can be found in the opening paragraph of Alec Solomita’s March, 2008 article in The New Criterion (“Yossarian Section“). Namely, “…after an initial smattering of mostly negative notices, the novel – helped by a canonizing New Republic piece by Robert Brustein, a fawning review by Nelson Algren in The Nation, and an expensive advertising campaign – became a success and then a phenomenon, eventually selling millions of copies around the world.”
In that light, here are the full texts of Algren’s and Brustein’s reviews, the former published just before, and the latter appearing only a few days after, the novel’s 1961 release.
You can “jump” to them directly via:
November 4, 1961, The Nation, Nelson Algren, “The Catch“
Algren’s review – if one can deem it such – follows. What’s more startling than its brevity, lack of substance, and absence of any genuine criticism of the novel as literature, is the nature of his endorsement of the book: For Algren, Heller’s novel is to be praised not for its merits as a written work, but for purely ideological purposes: It serves as “the strongest repudiation of our civilization,” to emerge from the Second World War, concluding with the astonishing assertion that, “…it is the best American novel that has come out of anywhere in years.”
For the purposes of this post, my familiarity with Nelson Algren (actually, Nelson A. Abraham) is limited to his biography in Wikipedia, and, contemporary newspaper articles available via FultonHistory. From these sources, I can’t help but wonder how much the turbulent nature of the man’s life, given his general affinity for outcasts, the downtrodden (regardless of the origin of their situation), and transgressors of conventionality (the demimonde) – with his effectively lifelong near-adolescent opposition to most any prevailing political and social norm – affected his judgement of Catch-22, even as it molded his own works of fiction, and, the course of his life. In this, one is reminded of Émile Augier’s phrase “nostalgie de la boue“, roughly translating as “yearning for the mud” … a drive not unprecedented in human nature to deliberately subject oneself to a degree of self-degradation and transgression, characteristic of the protagonists of Algren’s novels. Intentionally or not, Catch-22, because of its unconventionality and very opposition to the conventional, may have simply been a literary prism through which Algren perceived and found validation for his way of seeing and living in the world
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The Catch
There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, which specified that a concern for one’s own safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind.
*****
Below its hilarity, so wild that it hurts, Catch-22 is the strongest repudiation of our civilization, in fiction, to come out of World War II. The Naked and the Dead and From Here to Eternity are lost within it. That the horror and the hypocrisy, the greed and the complacency, the endless cunning and the endless stupidity which now go to constitute what we term Christianity are dealt with here in absolutes, does not lessen the truth of its repudiation.
*****
To compare Catch-22 favorably with The Good Soldier Schweik would be an injustice, because this novel is not merely the best American novel to come out of World War II; it is the best American novel that has come out of anywhere in years.
There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, which specified that a concern for one’s own safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind. Orr was crazy and could be grounded. All he had to do was ask; and as soon as he did, he would no longer be crazy and would have to fly more missions. He would be crazy to fly more missions and sane if he didn’t, but if he was sane he had to fly them. Yossarian was moved very deeply by the absolute simplicity of this clause and let out a respectful whistle:
“That’s some catch, that Catch-22,” he observed. “It’s the best there is,” Doc Daneeka agreed.
Yossarian was moved deeply day and night and what moved him more deeply than anything else was the fact that they were trying to murder him.
“Who’s ‘they’?” Clevenger wanted to know. “Who, specifically, is trying to murder you?” “Every one of them,” Yossarian told him. “Every one of whom?” “Every one of whom do you think?” “I haven’t any idea.” “Then how do you know they aren’t?”
Yossarian had proof, because strangers he didn’t know shot at him with cannons every time he flew up into the air to drop bombs on them, so it was of no use for Clevenger to say “No one is trying to kill you.”
“Then why are they shooting at me?” “They’re shooting at everyone.” “And what difference does that make?” “I’m not going to argue with you,” Clevenger decided, “you don’t know who you hate.” “Whoever is trying to poison me.” “Nobody is trying to poison you.” “They poisoned my food twice, didn’t they? Didn’t they put poison in my food at Ferrara and during the Great Big Siege of Bologna?” “They put poison in everybody’s food,” Clevenger explained. “And what difference does that make?”
There was no established procedure for evasive action. All you needed was fear, and Yossarian had plenty of that. He bolted wildly for his life on each mission the instant his bombs were away. When he fufilled the thirty-five missions required of each man of his group, he asked to be sent home.
Colonel Cathcart had by then raised the missions required to forty. When Yossarian had flown forty he asked to be sent home. Colonel Cathcart had raised the missions required to forty-five – there did seem to be a catch somewhere. Yossarian went into the hospital with a pain in his liver that fell just short of being jaundice. If it became jaundice the doctors could treat it. If it didn’t become jaundice and went away they could discharge him. Yossarian decided to spend the rest of the war in bed by running a daily temperature of 101. He had found a catch of his own.
To preserve his sanity against the formalized lunacy of the military mind in action, Yossarian had to turn madman. Yet even Yossarian is more the patriot than Sgt. Minderbinder, the business mind in action. Even Yossarian has to protest when Minderbinder arranges with the Germans to let them knock American planes down at a thousand dollars per plane. Minderbinder is horrified – “Have you no respect for the sanctity of a business contract?” he demands of Yossarian, and Yossarian feels ashamed of himself.
Below its hilarity, so wild that it hurts, Catch-22 is the strongest repudiation of our civilization, in fiction, to come out of World War II. The Naked and the Dead and From Here to Eternity are lost within it. That the horror and the hypocrisy, the greed and the complacency, the endless cunning and the endless stupidity which now go to constitute what we term Christianity are dealt with here in absolutes, does not lessen the truth of its repudiation. Those happy few who hit upon Terry Southern’s The Magic Christian will find that, what Southern said with some self-doubt, Heller says with no doubt whatsoever. To compare Catch-22 favorably with The Good Soldier Schweik would be an injustice, because this novel is not merely the best American novel to come out of World War II; it is the best American novel that has come out of anywhere in years. – Nelson Algren
Nelson Algren (1909-1981) won the first National Book Award for fiction in 1950 for The Man With the Golden Arm.
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Well, you’ve got to hand it to The New Republic: Whatever was lacking – in terms of length and substance – in Nelson Algren’s Nation review is more than abundant in that of Robert Brustein. This comprises laying down the novel’s plot, thoroughly recapitulating the events of the story, presenting the characters therein, and, making a comparison of Heller’s work to luminaries in the worlds of entertainment, cinema, and literature such as the Marx Brothers, Max Schulman, Kingsley Amis, Al Capp, S.J. Perelman, and Nathanael West. Brustein concludes by juxtaposing Heller’s literary skill against that of his contemporaries – Norman Mailer, Saul Bellow, and J.D. Salinger – albeit the reviewer illustrates how Heller’s work manifests the very best of each of that trio’s talents, even while transcending lacuna in the skills of Mailer and Salinger. Here, Alec Solomita is correct in deeming Brustein’s review as “canonizing”, for it is entirely, unreservedly, uniformly – nay, eagerly; nay, exultantly? – positive, reveling in more than reviewing Catch-22.
As you read Brustein’s review, one passage here; another there; even another elsewhere and so on throughout, it becomes apparent that his review of Heller’s book is as ideologically loaded and divorced from contemplating Heller’s novel as literature, per se, than is Algren’s. Taking all aspects of his review into consideration (there’s lots of sycophancy running around here!) it seems that the animating aspects of Catch-22 most admired by Brustein are the novel’s indictment and condemnation of the accepted norms of conventionality, logic, and moral discernment that undergird society (any society), and, the book’s corresponding exaltation of irrationality in the service of moral solipsism, cutely deemed “Falstaffian irresponsibility.” This is best exemplified by the following quotes:
“… the most lunatic are the most logical …”
“… Yossarian is surrounded on all sides by hostile forces: his enemies are distinguished less by their nationality than by their ability to get him killed.”
Certainly I can’t venture as to specifically why Brustein would have viewed Heller’s novel so positively, unless he saw (and rightly so) that it reflected currents of dionysian thought that had by then – the early 1960s, if not in reality many decades earlier – come to permeate, be accepted in, and promulgated by the worlds of academia, publishing, media, and entertainment. (Why? I have an idea, but that answer’s beyond the scope of this post.) Again, quoting Brustein, “For the author … has been nourishing his grudges for so long that they have expanded to include the post-war American world. Through the agency of grotesque comedy, Heller has found a way to confront the humbug, hypocrisy, cruelty, and sheer stupidity of our mass society.” Through this, and the remark about the, “…whole mystique of corporation capitalism,” one gets the impression that his review reveals far less about the novel then it does about his view of contemporary society, if not any society.
And so:
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The Logic of Survival in a Lunatic World
For the author (apparently sharing the Italian belief that vengeance is a dish which tastes best cold) has been nourishing his grudges for so long that they have expanded to include the post-war American world.
*****
Considering his indifference to surface reality, it is absurd to judge Heller by standards of psychological realism (or, for that matter, by conventional artistic standards at all, since his book is as formless as any picaresque epic). He is concerned entirely with that thin boundary of the surreal, the borderline between hilarity and horror, which, much like the apparent formlessness of the unconscious, has its own special integrity and coherence. Thus, Heller will never use comedy for its own sake; each joke has a wider significance in the intricate pattern, so that laughter becomes a prologue for some grotesque revelation. This gives the reader an effect of surrealistic dislocation, intensified by a weird, rather flat, impersonal style, full of complicated reversals, swift transitions, abrupt shifts in chronological time, and manipulated identities (e.g. if a private named Major Major Major is promoted to Major by a faulty IBM machine, or if a malingerer, sitting out a doomed mission, is declared dead through a bureaucratic error, then this remains their permanent fate), as if all mankind was determined by a mad and merciless mechanism.
*****
Yossarian’s expedient is not very flattering to our national ideals, being defeatist, selfish, cowardly, and unheroic. On the other hand, it is one of those sublime expressions of anarchic individualism without which all national ideals are pretty hollow anyway. Since the mass State, whether totalitarian or democratic, has grown increasingly hostile to Falstaffian irresponsibility, Yossarian’s anti-heroism is, in fact, a kind of inverted heroism which we would do well to ponder. For, contrary to the armchair pronouncements of patriotic ideologues, Yossarian’s obsessive concern for survival makes him not only not morally dead, but one of the most morally vibrant figures in recent literature— and a giant of the will beside those weary, wise and wistful prodigals in contemporary novels who always accommodate sadly to American life.
(In honor of Banned Books Week, we’ll be publishing our original reviews of frequently banned books. First up is Robert Brustein on Joseph Heller’s Catch 22, “a bitter, brilliant, subversive book.”)
Like all superlative works of comedy—and I am ready to argue that this is one of the most bitterly funny works in the language—Catch-22 is based on an unconventional but utterly convincing internal logic. In the very opening pages, when we come upon a number of Air Force officers malingering in a hospital—one censoring all the modifiers out of enlisted men’s letters and signing the censor’s name “Washington Irving,” another pursuing tedious conversations with boring Texans in order to increase his life span by making time pass slowly, still another storing horse chestnuts in his cheeks to give himself a look of innocence—it seems obvious that an inordinate number of Joseph Heller’s characters are, by all conventional standards, mad. It is a triumph of Mr. Heller’s skill that he is so quickly able to persuade us 1) that the most lunatic are the most logical, and 2) that it is our conventional standards which lack any logical consistency. The sanest looney of them all is the apparently harebrained central character, an American bombardier of Syrian extraction named Captain John Yossarian, who is based on a mythical Italian island (Pianosa) during World War II. For while many of his fellow officers seem indifferent to their own survival, and most of his superior officers are overtly hostile to his, Yossarian is animated solely by a desperate determination to stay alive:
“It was a vile and muddy war, and Yossarian could have lived without it—lived forever, perhaps. Only a fraction of his countrymen would give up their lives to win it, and it was not his ambition to be among them…That men would die was a matter of necessity; which men would die, though, was a matter of circumstance, and Yossarian was willing to be the victim of anything but circumstance.”
The single narrative thread in this crazy patchwork of anecdotes, episodes, and character portraits traces Yossarian’s herculean efforts—through caution, cowardice, defiance, subterfuge, strategem, and subversion, through feigning illness, goofing off, and poisoning the company’s food with laundry soap—to avoid being victimized by circumstance, a force represented in the book as Catch-22. For Catch-22 is the unwritten loophole in every written law which empowers the authorities to revoke your rights whenever it suits their cruel whims; it is, in short, the principle of absolute evil in a malevolent, mechanical, and incompetent world. Because of Catch-22, justice is mocked, the innocent are victimized, and Yossarian’s squadron is forced to fly more than double the number of missions prescribed by Air Force code. Dogged by Catch-22, Yossarian becomes the anguished witness to the ghoulish slaughter of his crew members and the destruction of all his closest friends, until finally his fear of death becomes so intense that he refuses to wear a uniform, after his own has been besplattered with the guts of his dying gunner, and receives a medal standing naked in formation. From this point on, Yossarian’s logic becomes so pure that everyone thinks him mad, for it is the logic of sheer survival, dedicated to keeping him alive in a world noisily clamoring for his annihilation.
According to this logic, Yossarian is surrounded on all sides by hostile forces: his enemies are distinguished less by their nationality than by their ability to get him killed. Thus, Yossarian feels a blind, electric rage against the Germans whenever they hurl flak at his easily penetrated plane; but he feels an equally profound hatred for those of his own countrymen who exercise an arbitrary power over his life and well-being. Heller’s huge cast of characters, therefore, is dominated by a large number of comic malignities, genus Americanus, drawn with a grotesqueness so audacious that they somehow transcend caricature entirely and become vividly authentic. These include: Colonel Cathcart, Yossarian’s commanding officer, whose consuming ambition to get his picture in the Saturday Evening Post motivates him to volunteer his command for every dangerous command, and to initiate prayers during briefing sessions (“I don’t want any of this Kingdom of God or Valley of Death stuff. That’s all too negative… Couldn’t we pray for a tighter bomb pattern?”), an idea he abandons only when he learns enlisted men pray to the same God; General Peckem, head of Special Services, whose strategic objective is to replace General Dreedle, the wing commander, capturing every bomber group in the US Air Force (“If dropping bombs on the enemy isn’t a special service, I wonder what in the world is”); Captain Black, the squadron intelligence officer, who inaugurates the Glorious Loyalty Oath Crusade in order to discomfort a rival, forcing all officers (except the rival, who is thereupon declared a Communist) to sign a new oath whenever they get their flak suits, their pay checks, or their haircuts; Lieutenant Scheisskopf, paragon of the parade ground, whose admiration for efficient formations makes him scheme to screw nickel-alloy swivels into every cadet’s back for perfect ninety degree turns; and cadres of sadistic officers, club-happy MPs, and muddleheaded agents of the CID, two of whom, popping in and out of rooms like farcical private eyes, look for Washington Irving throughout the action, finally pinning the rap on the innocent chaplain.
These are Yossarian’s antagonists, all of them reduced to a single exaggerated humor, and all identified by their totally mechanical attitude toward human life. Heller has a profound hatred for this kind of military mind, further anatomized in a wacky scene before the Action Board which displays his (and their) animosity in a manner both hilarious and scarifying. But Heller, at war with much larger forces than the army, has provided his book with much wider implications than a war novel. For the author (apparently sharing the Italian belief that vengeance is a dish which tastes best cold) has been nourishing his grudges for so long that they have expanded to include the post-war American world. Through the agency of grotesque comedy, Heller has found a way to confront the humbug, hypocrisy, cruelty, and sheer stupidity of our mass society—qualities which have made the few other Americans who care almost speechless with baffled rage and through some miracle of prestidigitation, Pianosa has become a satirical microcosm for many of the macrocosmic idiocies of our time. Thus, the author flourishes his Juvenalian scourge at government-subsidized agriculture (and farmers, one of whom “spent every penny he didn’t earn on new land to increase the amount of alfalfa he did not grow”); at the exploitation of American Indians, evicted from their oil-rich land; at smug psychiatrists; at bureaucrats and patriots; at acquisitive war widows; at high-spirited American boys; and especially, and most vindictively, at war profiteers.
This last satirical flourish, aimed at the whole mystique of corporation capitalism, is embodied in the fantastic adventures of Milo Minderbinder, the company mess officer, and a paradigm of good natured Jonsonian cupidity. Anxious to put the war on a business-like basis, Milo has formed a syndicate designed to corner the world market on all available foodstuffs, which he then sells to army mess halls at huge profits. Heady with success (his deals have made him Mayor of every town in Sicily, Vice-Shah of Oran, Caliph of Baghdad, Imam of Damascus, and the Sheik of Araby), Milo soon expands his activities, forming a private army which he hires out to the highest bidder. The climax of Milo’s career comes when he fulfills a contract with the Germans to bomb and strafe his own outfit, directing his planes from the Pianosa control tower and justifying the action with the stirring war cry: “What’s good for the syndicate is good for the country.” Milo has almost succeeded in his ambition to pre-empt the field of war for private enterprise when he makes a fatal mistake: he has cornered the entire Egyptian cotton market and is unable to unload it anywhere. Having failed to pass it off to his own mess hall in the form of chocolate-covered cotton, Milo is finally persuaded by Yossarian to bribe the American government to take it off his hands: “If you run into trouble, just tell everybody that the security of the country requires a strong domestic Egyptian cotton speculating industry.” The Minderbinder sections—in showing the basic incompatibility of idealism and economics by satirizing the patriotic cant which usually accompanies American greed—illustrate the procedure of the entire book: the ruthless ridicule of hypocrisy through a technique of farce-fantasy, beneath which the demon of satire lurks, prodding fat behinds with a red-hot pitchfork.
It should be abundantly clear, then, that Catch-22, despite some of the most outrageous sequences since A Night at the Opera, is an intensely serious work. Heller has certain technical similarities to the Marx Brothers, Max Schulman, Kingsley Amis, Al Capp, and S.J. Perelman, but his mordant intelligence, closer to that of Nathanael West, penetrates the surface of the merely funny to expose a world of ruthless self-advancement, gruesome cruelty, and flagrant disregard for human life—a world, in short, very much like our own as seen through a magnifying glass, distorted for more perfect accuracy. Considering his indifference to surface reality, it is absurd to judge Heller by standards of psychological realism (or, for that matter, by conventional artistic standards at all, since his book is as formless as any picaresque epic). He is concerned entirely with that thin boundary of the surreal, the borderline between hilarity and horror, which, much like the apparent formlessness of the unconscious, has its own special integrity and coherence. Thus, Heller will never use comedy for its own sake; each joke has a wider significance in the intricate pattern, so that laughter becomes a prologue for some grotesque revelation. This gives the reader an effect of surrealistic dislocation, intensified by a weird, rather flat, impersonal style, full of complicated reversals, swift transitions, abrupt shifts in chronological time, and manipulated identities (e.g. if a private named Major Major Major is promoted to Major by a faulty IBM machine, or if a malingerer, sitting out a doomed mission, is declared dead through a bureaucratic error, then this remains their permanent fate), as if all mankind was determined by a mad and merciless mechanism.
Thus, Heller often manages to heighten the macabre obscenity of total war much more effectively through its gruesome comic aspects than if he had written realistic descriptions. And thus, the most delicate pressure is enough to send us over the line from farce into phantasmagoria. In the climactic chapter, in fact, the book leaves comedy altogether and becomes an eerie nightmare of terror. Here, Yossarian, walking through the streets of Rome as though through an Inferno, observes soldiers molesting drunken women, fathers beating ragged children, policemen clubbing innocent bystanders until the whole world seems swallowed up in the maw of evil:
“The night was filled with horrors, and he thought he knew how Christ must have felt as he walked through the world, like a psychiatrist through a ward of nuts, like a victim through a prison of thieves… Mobs… mobs of policemen… Mobs with clubs were in control everywhere.”
Here, as the book leaves the war behind, it is finally apparent that Heller’s comedy is his artistic response to his vision of transcendent evil, as if the escape route of laughter were the only recourse from a malignant world.
It is this world, which cannot be divided into boundaries or ideologies, that Yossarian has determined to resist. And so when his fear and disgust have reached the breaking point, he simply refuses to fly another mission. Asked by a superior what would happen if everybody felt the same way, Yossarian exercises his definitive logic, and answers, “Then I’d be a damned fool to feel any other way.” Having concluded a separate peace, Yossarian maintains it in the face of derision, ostracism, psychological pressure, and the threat of court martial. When he is finally permitted to go home if he will only agree to a shabby deal white- washing Colonel Cathcart, however, he finds himself impaled on two impossible alternatives. But his unique logic, helped along by the precedent of an even more logical friend, makes him conclude that desertion is the better part of valor; and so (after an inspirational sequence which is the weakest thing in the book) he takes off for neutral Sweden – the only place left in the world, outside of England, where “mobs with clubs” are not in control.
Yossarian’s expedient is not very flattering to our national ideals, being defeatist, selfish, cowardly, and unheroic. On the other hand, it is one of those sublime expressions of anarchic individualism without which all national ideals are pretty hollow anyway. Since the mass State, whether totalitarian or democratic, has grown increasingly hostile to Falstaffian irresponsibility, Yossarian’s anti-heroism is, in fact, a kind of inverted heroism which we would do well to ponder. For, contrary to the armchair pronouncements of patriotic ideologues, Yossarian’s obsessive concern for survival makes him not only not morally dead, but one of the most morally vibrant figures in recent literature—and a giant of the will beside those weary, wise and wistful prodigals in contemporary novels who always accommodate sadly to American life. I believe that Joseph Heller is one of the most extraordinary talents now among us. He has Mailer’s combustible radicalism without his passion for violence and self-glorification; he has Bellow’s gusto with his compulsion to affirm the unaffirmable; and he has Salinger’s wit without his coquettish self-consciousness. Finding his absolutes in the freedom to be, in a world dominated by cruelty, carnage, inhumanity, and a rage to destroy itself, Heller has come upon a new morality based on an old ideal, the morality of refusal. Perhaps—now that Catch-22 has found its most deadly nuclear form—we have reached the point where even the logic of survival is unworkable. But at least we can still contemplate the influence of its liberating honesty on a free, rebellious spirit in this explosive, bitter, subversive, brilliant book.
For Further Thought
Books
Falstein, Louis, Face of a Hero, Steerforth Press, South Royalton, Vt., 1999
Heller, Joseph, Catch-22, Dell Publishing, New York, N.Y., 1968
Articles
Hollander, Paul, The Resilience of the Adversary Culture, The National Interest, Summer, 2002, 101-112
Iannone, Carol, Lionel Trilling and the Barbarians at the Gate, Academic Questions, Winter, 2001-2002, 7-17
Kersten, Katherine, Adversary Culture in 2020, First Things, February, 2021, 41-46
Magnet, Myron, Defounding America, The New Criterion, May, 2021, 4-12
In late April of 1998, Face of a Hero became an object of literary attention as a result of an inquiry to the London Times by Lewis Pollock, concerning the provenance of Catch-22, Pollock correctly noting parallels between the main protagonist, secondary characters, setting, plot, and events of both novels. His letter became the impetus for articles in the Washington Post and New York Times which, accompanied by comments by Joseph Heller himself, delineated these similarities in detail, yet highlighted the marked difference between the two novels in terms of style, structure, and especially – if I can use the word in a literary sense? – the books’ very ethos.
As discussed by Michael Mewshaw and Mel Gussow, there was a genuine commonality of historical and life experience between Falstein and Heller. However, regardless of one’s opinion of the two works as literature, I believe that Joseph Heller was entirely honest in his description of the influences upon and originality of his novel, specifically mentioning being influenced by Louis-Ferdinand Céline (Ironically, “…His bigotry is not incidental to his writing but explicit within it…” an unrepentant Jew-hater. So I ask: Was Joseph Heller aware of this?; So, I also ask: If he had known, would it have mattered?), Evelyn Waugh and Vladimir Nabokov. Even if he had read Face of a Hero in the early 1950s; even if that novel was a spark for the eventual creation of Catch-22, any such spark would only have been as incipient as it was tiny, given what emerged from Heller’s desk eleven years later. In the end, all the parallels between the two novels are far more superficial than structural, just as were the parallels in the lives of their two authors. Though there were parallels in the worlds of Falstein, I believe looked upon “the world” – the world of history; the world of fiction – through vastly different understandings, and thus emerged with literary visions perhaps irreconcilable.
Ten months after the appearance of Mewshaw and Gussow’s articles, The Forward published an essay by Dr. Sanford Pinsker, Professor of English at Franklin and Marshall College, delving into the similarities and differences between the two novels in an effort to establish why Face of a Hero, “…quickly slid down the memory hole.”, in light of the novel’s, “…reissue in paperback by the Steerforth Press.”
One reason attributed to the novel’s reemergence was the late twentieth-century (retrospectively ephemeral) upsurge of interest in the Second World War, through history, fiction, and cinema. In this context, Pinsker cited Steven Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan, Terrence Malik’s The Thin Red Line, andRoberto Benigni’s “bold experiment” Life Is Beautiful (“bold experiment”? – seriously?! – my God, the mind boggles),the latter dubbed by David Denby in his New Yorker film review “Roberto Benigni’s Holocaust Fantasy” as, “…a benign form of Holocaust Denial”.
The other, primary reason, was the above-mentioned controversy generated by Louis Pollock’s letter to the London Times.
More importantly, in his discussion of why Face of a Hero rapidly fell from public and literary consciousness, Pinsker focuses on the novels’ differing approaches to storytelling in the context of the history of the Second World War, and, the experience of Jewish servicemen within that conflict. At heart, Face of a Hero is directly descriptive while Catch-22 is, …built on the scaffolding of the paradoxical,” and thus, far more stylistically vivid, focusing on the absurdities of war and the military, particularly with resonance to the (ahhhh, let’s have a drum roll for the mantra-like incantation of the 60s generation) “war in Vietnam”. While Pinsker appreciated Sergeant Ben Isaacs’ (Louis Falstein’s) empathy with the Jews of Europe, he felt that the direct and explicit treatment of this subject – in terms of dialogue and interior monologue – was an overdone form of “telling”, rather than “showing”, the emphasis upon which left vacant a fuller, deeper treatment of the airman’s experience of war. This is the same point of critique – and yes, it could be argued, a valid one – as mentioned by William DuBois in his New York Times’ “Books of the Times” review of August 17, 1950. “…he has chosen to wander too far from his air-strip. At times (when Ben is sympathizing with refugees in an Italian concentration camp, or cursing discrimination within his own army) one feels that the author is trying to write two novels at once, and muddling his effects. Finally, it’s plain too bad that “Face of a Hero” is bound to suffer from the law of diminishing returns – which operates in the literary market-place even more predictably than in other markets. There have been few war novels that were more deeply felt than this. There have been many that were better planned, many that identified the reader more closely with both cast and background.”
Well, I did not (do not) agree with Pinsker, but I did want to present his viewpoint, especially in light of my own thoughts about Falstein’s novel, some of which were presented in a letter published in TheForward three weeks later. Further insight into Pinsker’s thought about Joseph Heller can be found in his 1991 (republished in 2009) study, Understanding Joseph Heller.
Basically, I suggested that the tenor of the 1950s – the Second World War having ended a half-decade before, the Korean War having just begun, the (first) Cold War in full swing, plus the simple wheel of chance that governs the material success of all literary works, were the principle influences that decided the fate of Face of a Hero. In light of the book’s many positive reviews, “telling” and “aesthetic shaping” had absolutely nothing to do with it.
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Joseph Heller died on December 12, 1999, and more than nominal obituaries was the subject of retrospectives about his literary career and life, two of which follow below. One article is by Peter Carlson (in the Washington Post) and the other (in The Jerusalem Post), is by Michael Mewshaw, who wrote about the Catch-22 / Face of a Hero controversy in mid-1998.
The common element of the reviews, as hinted at by Pinsker in his “war in Vietnam” comment, is the realization that a significant reason for Catch-22’s success was a matter of timing: As related to Carlson by Heller, “At a reading the previous night, a man stood up and publicly thanked Heller for “Calch-22.” “I read your book the day before I got called up for Vietnam,” he said, “and I have to tell you, it helped.” And, as noted by Mewshaw, “…Heller’s book generated popularity and sales by word-of-mouth, eventually tapped into the anti-Vietnam war Zeitgeist of the ‘60s, and now occupies a secure place in the contemporary canon.” It was this, rather than by virtue of its literary quality (or more accurately put, in spite of its literary quality), that it emerged into and has persisted in literary and public consciousness, whether as the book Catch-22, or, the phrase “catch-22”.
So, on to the articles, letters, and retrospectives. These comprise:
New Questions Dog ‘Catch-22’ Joseph Heller Defends Originality of ‘61 Classic
Because [Lewis] Pollock must have been one of the few people on the planet who had read both books, he was especially interested to learn that Heller mentioned in his recent autobiography, “Now and Then,” that he had occasionally “borrowed” the scenes and settings of his early fiction from other authors. “I did not intend to cause trouble, Mr. Heller,” Pollock told the London Times. He just wondered whether Heller might have read and been influenced by “The Sky Is a Lonely Place.” Or, as he mused in his letter, “is this a remarkable example of synchronicity?”
Michael Mewshaw The Washington Post April 27, 1998
The inquiry to the London Sunday Times was politely phrased. “Can anyone out there account for the amazing similarity of characters, personality traits, eccentricities, physical descriptions, personnel injuries and incidents in `Catch-22’ (by Joseph Heller) and a novel by Louis Falstein, `The Sky Is a Lonely Place,’ published in 1951?”
The letter to the editor, published two weeks ago, caused ripples throughout literary London and led to an extensive report in today’s London Times. Could one of the 20th century’s best-selling novels — a book whose title became a synonym for paradox, the very hallmark of absurdity and a masterpiece of contemporary black humor — not have been as “wildly original” and “fantastically unique” as critics hailed it?
A reading of Louis Falstein’s novel suggests that somebody from the same background as Heller (the son of a Russian Jewish family), from the same borough of New York City (Brooklyn), from the same branch of the service (an airman on an American bomber squadron) and from the same combat theater (Italy, 1943-45) did write a book tantalizingly like the one Joseph Heller published more than a decade later.
Reached at his home on Long Island today, Heller denied that he ever read “The Sky Is a Lonely Place,” or heard of Louis Falstein, or of Lewis Pollock, the professional artist and amateur bibliophile who queried the London Times. “The similarities come from a common wartime experience,” he said.
“My book came out in 1961,” he added. “I find it funny that nobody else has noticed any similarities, including Falstein himself, who died just last year.”
Although he concedes some surprise at the bits and pieces the novels have in common, Heller pointed out how much war fiction depends on the same elementary variations on themes and characters.
In his book, Falstein described a hospitalized pilot lying in bed “in a white cast, like an Egyptian mummy. His arms were broken; and where his legs had been, there were cotton swathed stumps. Only his face showed out of the cast, and there were openings at the bottom for bodily functions. An orderly or nurse held the cigarette for him when he smoked.”
Heller wrote, “The soldier in white was encased from head to toe in plaster and gauze. He had two useless arms and two useless legs.” A nurse is described inserting a thermometer into his mouth, and he’s subsequently called “a stuffed and sterilized mummy.”
Toward the end of his novel, Falstein dramatized a grotesque Christmas Eve party that dissolves into a bacchanal of singing, screaming, sobbing and lamenting and ends with an outbreak of gunfire that the soldiers mistake for an enemy attack. “There were several more carbine pings, and somebody answered fire with a forty-five pistol.”
Late in “Catch-22,” Heller wrote that a Thanksgiving “celebration lasted long into the night, and the stillness was fractured often by wild, exultant shouts and by cries of people who were merry or sick. There was the recurring sound of retching and moaning, of laughter, greetings, threats and swearing, and of bottles shattering against rock. There were dirty songs in the distance.” It, too, ends with gunfire, and the protagonist Yossarian charges out of his tent with his .45.
“Catch-22” and “The Sky Is a Lonely Place” share another vaguely similar scene in which an Italian woman, who doesn’t understand English and has kept herself apart from the soldiers, is raped.
Asked today about those and other similarities, Heller cited personal experience. “I don’t know how many airmen brought along extra flak jackets, but I did,” he said. “That Thanksgiving scene actually happened — guys got drunk and started shooting. There was a case of rape in Rome. I heard of it. A maid got thrown out a window. I read about it in the military newspaper.” Which, he said, may mean Falstein read the same story.
As for the patient in a full-body cast, “That goes all the way back to Dalton Trumbo’s `Johnny Got His Gun.’ Trumbo’s novel came out not just before `Catch-22,’ but long before Falstein’s. If there’s a literary reference or allusion I’m a bit embarrassed about, it’s the similarity between the first chapter of `Catch-22’ and Celine’s `Journey to the End of Night.’ “
Because Pollock must have been one of the few people on the planet who had read both books, he was especially interested to learn that Heller mentioned in his recent autobiography, “Now and Then,” that he had occasionally “borrowed” the scenes and settings of his early fiction from other authors. “I did not intend to cause trouble, Mr. Heller,” Pollock told the London Times. He just wondered whether Heller might have read and been influenced by “The Sky Is a Lonely Place.” Or, as he mused in his letter, “is this a remarkable example of synchronicity?”
Duff Hart-Davis, son of Falstein’s late British publisher, says his father never met the author, and has raised the possibility that Falstein and Heller are the same person, that “The Sky Is a Lonely Place” was “a practice run for `Catch-22.’ “
But Heller squelched that theory.
“The Sky Is a Lonely Place” is narrated in the first person by a Jewish gunner in a B-24, Ben “Pop” Isaacs; “Catch-22” has an omniscient narrator who recounts the antics of the crew of a B-25.
Just as Heller’s celebrated novel contains a jamboree of characters — Colonel Cathcart, Colonel Korn, Major Major Major Major, Milo Minderbinder, Captain Aarfy Aardvark and, of course, Yossarian — so does Falstein’s, with Mel Ginn, Cosmo Fidanza, Chester Kowalski, Charles Couch, Billy Poat and Jack Doolie Dula.
While “Catch-22” is much longer, more ambitious and more relentlessly comic, Heller is correct that much of what they have in common comes out of the context of World War II, when airmen were eager to fly their 50 missions and get back to the United States.
When not airborne and on the brink of death, characters in both books kill time in scenes familiar to any reader of war fiction. They paint tiny bombs on their flight jackets to mark each mission. They drink, complain, cry, lie, play cruel jokes, fight, frequent brothels and encounter locals who are depicted as childlike and cunning, full of equal measures of Old World wisdom and venality. Children pimp for their sisters. Nurses are ice cold or volcanically hot. Rain plays havoc with the flight schedule, keeping the men safe on the ground, but exposing them to flu, fever, jaundice, hepatitis and fraying nerves.
Like Falstein, Heller focuses on the underbelly of the campaign — on PR officers more interested in publicity and medals than on men, on black marketeers who skim off supplies, leaving troops hungry and in the lurch.
Where Falstein heightens the tension in a conventional, realistic manner with near-misses, crash landings, midair dogfights and fatal miscalculations of fuel, Heller ratchets up the stakes and darkens the laughter by having the high command constantly raise the required number of missions.
Yet Falstein displays a Hellerean fascination for Grand Guignol violence, quirky gags and virulent humor that verves from the slapstick to the surrealistic and sometimes the satanic. Scabrous jokes, racial epithets, savage sexual ribaldry and hair-raising craziness pour out of people. At times, Falstein achieves a sort of demonic poetry, as when a soldier says “Grazie Nazi,” and his friend replies “Prego, dago” — Heller does the same in “Catch-22,” where an exchange runs: “Pass the salt, Walt / Pass the bread, Fred / Shoot me a beet, Pete.”
Paralyzed with fear, Falstein’s characters become preternaturally alert to the absurdity of their situation, the logical lunacy of rules and regulations, the arbitrariness of authority and the emptiness of words. Early in “The Sky Is a Lonely Place,” the narrator learns a lesson in “airwar language” when he’s instructed “never use the word KILLED . . . we say a guy WENT DOWN” — a scene reminiscent of the chaplain in “Catch-22” being ordered to compose a prayer that eliminates God and death.
In both books, a red ribbon on a map marks the advance of American troops and the bomb line. As the ribbon approaches Vienna, a Falstein character comes down with diarrhea. When in “Catch-22” it closes in on Bologna, an epidemic of diarrhea breaks out on Heller’s air base.
Even as the similarities grow more frequent, it’s possible to see them as shards from the same general mosaic. True, Falstein’s bombardier “shrieks,” just as Yossarian does after he drops a bomb. True, there’s a cat that crawls onto a sleeping soldier and has to be peeled away when the man wakes up. True, both books have characters who shuffle and deal cards in a snappy explosive fashion. True, Ben Isaacs, like Yossarian, drags extra flak jackets along on each mission and drapes them all over his body. True, there are common comic scenes involving the idiocies of letter censors and the self-serving circumlocutions of military doctors who sense that the flyboys are sick and/or insane, yet keep sending them on missions.
But several similarities seem to transcend any question of shared experience or literary archetypes. “Catch-22” opens with a chapter titled “The Texan.” In the first chapter of “The Sky Is a Lonely Place,” the narrator introduces a character referred to as “the stringy young Texan.”
Still, the current imbroglio has not reduced Joseph Heller’s pride of authorship and he closes by stressing, “Given the amount of invention in `Catch-22,’ it would be an amazing coincidence if there were fundamental similarities with Falstein’s novel.”
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Questioning the Provenance of the Iconic ‘Catch-22’
‘‘Face of a Hero,’’ told in the first person by a gunner named Ben Isaacs, is a harrowing but relatively straightforward dramatic account of one man’s wartime experiences. Isaacs, nicknamed Pops because he is older than the other members of the crew, is obsessed by his hatred of Hitler and Fascism.
‘‘Catch-22’’ is a Dantesque vision, a darkly comic surrealistic portrait of men caught up in the madness of war. Mr. Heller’s protagonist, Yossarian, is a bombardier who comes to believe – with some justification – that everyone is trying to kill him. With an increasing desperation, he wants to complete his 50 missions so he can go home, but keeps finding the number of missions needed raised by his commanding officer.
Mel Gussow The New York Times April 29, 1998
When Louis Falstein’s ‘‘Face of a Hero’’ was published in 1950, Herbert F. West reviewed it favorably in The New York Times Book Review, calling it ‘‘the most mature novel about the Air Force that has yet appeared. . . . a book that is both exciting and important.’’ Still, the book and its author faded into obscurity.
When Joseph Heller’s ‘‘Catch-22’’ was published 11 years later, Richard G. Stern gave it a negative review in the Times Book Review. He said that it ‘‘gasps for want of craft and sensibility’’ and called it ‘‘an emotional hodgepodge.’’ Despite that indictment, ‘‘Catch-22’’ eventually became a phenomenal success — a best seller, a film and the cornerstone of a major literary career.
Now, in a strange twist, the two books have come together, and their meeting has led to a provocative debate. In a recent letter to The Times of London, Lewis Pollock, a London bibliophile, wondered if anyone could ‘‘account for the amazing similarity of characters, personality traits, eccentricities, physical descriptions, personnel injuries and incidents’’ in the two books.
He asked if this were ‘‘a remarkable example of synchronicity.’’ That letter has sparked conjecture in both Britain and the United States about the origins of ‘‘Catch-22.’’ An article appeared this week in The Sunday Times of London, followed by one the next day on the front page of The Washington Post suggesting that Mr. Heller may have appropriated material from Falstein’s book.
On the telephone from his home on Long Island, Mr. Heller issued a categorical denial. He said he was influenced in his writing by Celine, Waugh and Nabokov, but not by Falstein. ‘‘I never read the book,’’ he said. ‘‘I never heard of the book or the author. To the extent that there are similarities, they are coincidences, and if the similarities are striking then they are striking coincidences.’’
He added, ‘‘If I went through the ‘Iliad’ I would probably find as many similarities to ‘Catch-22’ as other people seem to be finding between Falstein’s book and mine.’’
Robert Gottlieb, who edited ‘‘Catch-22’’ for Simon & Schuster, was astonished at the suggestion that Mr. Heller might have borrowed anything from Falstein or any other writer. ‘‘I’ve never seen, heard or felt Joe Heller doing anything remotely less than honest during our 40-year relationship,’’ he said. ‘‘It is inconceivable that he used any other writer’s work. For one thing, he’s too shrewd to do something so blatant. It’s easier for me to believe that Falstein anticipated ‘Catch-22.’ ‘‘
Both authors were in the Army Air Force in Europe during World War II as members of combat crews on bombers. Falstein was stationed in southern Italy, Mr. Heller in Corsica (called Pianosa in his book). For each, this was a first novel. Mr. Falstein died in 1995 at 86.
While it was easy enough for Mr. Heller to be unaware of Mr. Falstein’s book, it is implausible that Falstein was unaware of ‘‘Catch-22,’’ a highly celebrated book that dealt with a closely related subject. ‘‘Where was Mr. Falstein between 1961 and his death?’’ asked Mr. Gottlieb. ‘‘If he felt his book was misused, he should have said something about it.’’ Falstein’s son, Joshua, who is a court stenographer, said this week that his father never mentioned ‘‘Catch-22’’ to him.
From a reading of ‘‘Face of a Hero’’ (published by Harcourt Brace and long out of print), it is clear that each novel stands on its own. Despite the common background in the military and some similar incidents, the books are widely disparate in approach, ambition, style and content.
‘‘Face of a Hero,’’ told in the first person by a gunner named Ben Isaacs, is a harrowing but relatively straightforward dramatic account of one man’s wartime experiences. Isaacs, nicknamed Pops because he is older than the other members of the crew, is obsessed by his hatred of Hitler and Fascism.
‘‘Catch-22’’ is a Dantesque vision, a darkly comic surrealistic portrait of men caught up in the madness of war. Mr. Heller’s protagonist, Yossarian, is a bombardier who comes to believe — with some justification — that everyone is trying to kill him. With an increasing desperation, he wants to complete his 50 missions so he can go home, but keeps finding the number of missions needed raised by his commanding officer.
An examination of the two books leads this reader to conclude that the similarities between the two can easily be attributed to the shared wartime experiences of the authors. In his first chapter, for instance, Falstein introduces his flight crew, one of whom is identified as ‘‘the stringy young Texan.’’ Coincidentally, Mr. Heller’s first chapter is called ‘‘The Texan’’ and one of the characters is from Texas, but the scene is entirely different. Yossarian is in a hospital. ‘‘It was love at first sight,’’ Mr. Heller begins. ‘‘The first time Yossarian saw the chaplain he fell madly in love with him.’’
In that chapter, Mr. Heller introduces ‘‘the soldier in white’’ who ‘‘was encased from head to toe in plaster and gauze.’’ He continues, ‘‘He had two useless legs and two useless arms’’ and had been smuggled into the ward at night. Later in his book, Falstein also has a soldier in white who ‘‘looked entombed in the cast, like an Egyptian mummy.’’ This invalid is the crew’s new pilot, wounded in action. In ‘‘Catch-22,’’ the figure is as mysterious and as metaphorical as the Unknown Soldier.
In Falstein’s book there is an animal lover who sleeps with five cats. In Mr. Heller’s book, there is Hungry Joe, who ‘‘dreamed that Huple’s cat was sleeping on his face, suffocating him, and when he woke up, Huple’s cat was sleeping on his face.’’ Both Isaacs and Yossarian take extra flak jackets into combat as protection — as apparently did Falstein, Mr. Heller and other members of flight crews in combat. In each book, there is a holiday party that ends in gunfire and there is a rape scene with some similarity.
While ‘‘Face of a Hero’’ holds firmly to a realistic base, ‘‘Catch-22’’ is a transforming act of the imagination, populated by fiercely original characters like Milo Minderbinder, the flamboyant opportunist who bombs his own air base for profit (Falstein has a black marketeer in his company, far smaller in scope than Milo). From Mr. Heller, there is also Major Major Major Major, whose fate is to look like Henry Fonda but not act anything like him. Then there is Doc Daneeka with his theory of ‘‘Catch-22.’’ A man has to be declared crazy to be relieved from combat duty, but ‘‘anyone who wants to get out of combat duty isn’t really crazy.’’
Falstein, who was born in Ukraine and came to the United States in 1925, wrote several other novels, including ‘‘Slaughter Street’’ and ‘‘Sole Survivor,’’ as well as a biography of Sholom Aleichem for young readers. After the war, he attended New York University and later taught there and at City College. He continued to write late in life but his work was not published, his son said.
In his recent memoir, ‘‘Now and Then,’’ Mr. Heller discusses in detail the models for some of his characters. Reviewing the book in The Times of London, J. G. Ballard reflected on the importance of ‘‘Catch-22,’’ calling it ‘‘the last great novel written in English.’’ Paradoxically, it was Mr. Ballard’s piece that led to that questioning letter to the editor and the subsequent controversy.
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Making War Seem Real
At the same time, however, a part of me knows that there is far too much telling rather than showing in Falstein’s novel. By fastening his imagination to the “facts” of what being a Jewish airman was really like, he neglects telling details and aesthetic shaping. As such his novel, admirable though it is in spots, fails to make a convincing case for the direction in which “Face of a Hero” merely points. My hunch is that the literary jury has long ago rendered its verdict, and that nothing in “Face of a Hero” is likely to change it.
Sanford Pinsker
The Forward February 19, 1999
Louis Falstein’s autobiographical World War II novel, “Face of a Hero,” was published in 1950. Despite some good notices in The New York Times and The New Republic, it quickly slid down the memory hole. What, then, accounts for its reissue in paperback by the Steerforth Press? Two answers suggest themselves.
One has to do with speculation about the similarities between Falstein’s account of the war and Joseph Heller’s comic masterpiece, “Catch-22,” which was published 10 years after “Face of a Hero” and covered roughly the same material. The airmen at the center of both novels share their worries about survival in the face of enemy flak and the number of missions they are required to fly, and they watch their fellow squadron members’ increasingly desperate quests for comic or sexual relief as the shadow of death creeps closer. Although the case for Mr. Heller’s unacknowledged appropriation of Falstein’s material seems to have little if any merit, once certain questions have been raised, reprinting a novel such as “Face of a Hero” will follow as the night follows the day. Sadly, Falstein, who died in 1995, is not available for comment or questioning.
The other reason for the reappearance of the book is a renewed interest in seeing World War II through a realistic lens. Steven Spielberg’s “Saving Private Ryan” and Terrence Malick’s “The Thin Red Line,” are part of this trend. Admirers of “Saving Private Ryan” insist that the film is Hollywood storytelling at its best; by capturing essential truths in striking images and a straightforward narrative, it does for World War II cinema, they say, what “Schindler’s List” had done for the Holocaust.
The difference between “Saving Private Ryan,” “The Thin Red Line” and “Face of a Hero” on one hand and “Catch-22” on the other are part of a larger, ongoing debate about hyper-realism and the more inventive – some would say, wackier – possibilities of postmodernist experimentation. A recent example of the latter is Italian comedian Roberto Benigni’s bold experiment, “Life Is Beautiful,” which uses farce to illustrate the horrors of concentration camps. Mr. Benigni’s film is squaring off against “Saving Private Ryan” and “The Thin Red Line” for the Academy Award for Best Picture, and the choice among them is in part a referendum on the relative merits of grim realism and absurd humor.
Which method gets us closer to the truth – the rigorous attention in “Face of a Hero” to the details as they really were, or the dark comedy of “Catch-22,” a book that turns the horrors of war into a funhouse mirror? Mr. Heller’s novel is built on the scaffolding of the paradoxical Catch-22: “If he flew them he was crazy and didn’t have to; but if he didn’t want to he was sane and had to.” The dark joke at the heart of Mr. Heller’s carpet allows him to raise arbitrarily the number of required missions (by contrast, in Falstein’s treatment, the number never inches higher than 50), or to etch a slapstick world in which language can do more damage than enemy fire. The result is that when the two novels are read side by side, Mr. Heller is not only the more vivid stylist by far, but he also has a deeper, more penetrating grasp of war’s central absurdities. Surrealism, in short, seems a better cultural fit, especially when readers apply Mr. Heller’s deadly logic to the war in Vietnam.
“Catch-22” may contain multitudes, but one figure conspicuously missing is the Jew. John Yossarian, Mr. Heller’s protagonist and wisecracking mouthpiece, prides himself on being an Assyrian, even more foreign and estranged than was Falstein’s literary alter ego, 34-year-old Ben Isaacs. Those of us who have long hectored Mr. Heller about erasing his Jewishness from his war novel will find “Face of a Hero” something of a mixed – and troubling – bag. On one hand, there are passages in which Ben Isaacs not only makes his Jewish identification clear, but also links it to a wider sense of history:
I was here because I hated Hitler, hated fascism, and feared they would come to America. I was here because Hitler made me conscious, again, that as a Jew I must assume the role of scapegoat. I had almost forgotten that being Jewish carried any stigma with it, though I had known anti-Semitism and pogroms as a child [in the Ukraine]. From the age of fifteen when I arrived in America, being Jewish had not stood in the way of my becoming a teacher, of being happily married, of leading the kind of existence that would let me attain my limited aspirations. Only in 1933, with Hitler riding into power, was the old wound reopened.
On the other hand, in novels such as “Face of a Hero” and perhaps even more so in films, the wartime squadron becomes a microcosm of America itself, with its requisite Texas blowhard, apple-cheeked farm boy from Iowa, lone black, and secular Brooklyn Jew. In this sense, “Saving Private Ryan” is so many musty cinematic conventions poured into a visually shocking new treatment – including its Jewish character, who dies as a result of a fellow’s soldier’s paralyzing cowardice in the face of the German army. For better or worse, Mr. Heller’s novel changed the formula, and in the process lifted realism to a new surrealistic level, one where any whiff of the Holocaust had to be consciously edited out. By contrast, Falstein’s Ben Isaacs drags the nights of fog and death onto center stage.
Small wonder, then, that a part of me wants to give Falstein the credit that is his due, not as the unacknowledged model for “Catch22” but rather as a novelistic exploration of its author’s identity that includes passages such as this one: “My guns had spoken for the pogroms I had lived through … for the anguished screams of people, my people, who were this very moment burning in Hitler’s extermination ovens.”
At the same time, however, a part of me knows that there is far too much telling rather than showing in Falstein’s novel. By fastening his imagination to the “facts” of what being a Jewish airman was really like, he neglects telling details and aesthetic shaping. As such his novel, admirable though it is in spots, fails to make a convincing case for the direction in which “Face of a Hero” merely points. My hunch is that the literary jury has long ago rendered its verdict, and that nothing in “Face of a Hero” is likely to change it.
Mr: Pinsker is Shadek professor of humanities at Franklin and Marshall College.
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War Novel Suffered in 1950s
Here’s a letter I wrote to The Forward, in response to Pinsker’s essay:
The novel’s lack of success may have had far more to do with the tenor of the 50s than its quality as literature.
*****
Falstein may have felt no desire to engage in experiments in form and style. Rather, he simply wanted to tell a story… no more, no less… about the experiences of a Jewish aerial gunner and his fellow crewmen, during a time when the 15th Air Force was incurring its heaviest losses of planes and crews. What Pinsker sees “a lack of aesthetic shaping” is actually simplicity, clarity, and above all, honesty.
The Forward March 5, 1999
I was happily surprised’ to see The Forward accord Louis Falstein’s “Face of a Hero”‘ attention the novel has long merited (“Making War Seem Real,” February 29). Sadly, though, Sanford Pinsker’s review and comparison of Mr. Falstein’s novel to Joseph Heller’s “Catch 22” does the former a great injustice. It is an injustice in terms of the clarity of Falstein’s depiction of the experiences and thoughts of a Jewish aviator flying missions over German-occupied Europe, the literary style of “Face of a Hero” and the book’s place in the literature of World War II.
Mr. Pinsker seems to categorize Falstein’s depiction of a multi-ethnic bomber crew as an exarnple of a hackneyed plot device used by writers and filmmakers since World War II. But a serious look at the composition of most World War II Air Corps bomber crews shows that the air crew of Falstein’s fictional B-24 bomber, the “Flying Foxhole,” has more basis in fact than fiction. As discussed in detail by Gerald Astor in “The Mighty Eighth,” American bomber crews often indeed were random and varied combinations of ethnicities and religions. A look at the historical records of any-odd World War II fighter or bomber group will suffice to prove this. As such, these men naturally experiencecI the gamut off feelings found among people from disparate locales and backgrounds, thrown together at random, in situations of life and death.
In more general terms, Mr. Pinsker takes issue with the way “Face of a Hero” spends too much time “telling, rather than showing,” being enmeshed in details and facts at the expense of style and aesthetics. This, combined with the novel’s allegedly stereotypical and shallow characters, may have contributed to its rapid disappearance from the literary spotlight.
I think the actual reasons for the novel’s lack of recognition are vastly different.
Remember, the story was published in 1950, only five years after the end of World War II and coincident with the start of the Korean War. The American public was psychologically fatigued from a costly victory only five years earlier, yet it found itself at war again, dashing hopes for an era of peace. The novel depicted the psychological effects of war on soldiers, and on aviators, and it presented these men in what some may see as unflattering, but ultimately sympathetic, candor. Finally, the praise given to the novel by The New York Times and The New Republic was by no means universal. For example, an anonymous reviewer in Time magazine blasted Falstein for emphasizing Ben Isaacs’s Jewish identity and perspective of the war, characterizing the book’s hero as a “congenital soul-searcher” and “neurotic.” The novel’s lack of success may have had far more to do with the tenor of the 1950s than its quality as literature.
Falstein may have felt no desire to engage in experiments, in form and style. Rather, he simply wanted to tell a story – no more, no less – about the experiences of a Jewish aerial gunner and his fellow crewmen, during a time when the 15th Air Force was incurring its heaviest losses of planes and crews. What Mr. Pinsker sees as “a lack of aesthetic shaping” is actually simplicity, clarity and, above all, honesty.
[My letter concluded with the following two sentences, which The Forward did not deign to publish: “If anything, Face of a Hero’s release was premature. The verdict of Pinsker’s “literary jury”, as forgetful as it is fickle, may have been equally premature.”]
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The Heights of Absurdity Joseph Heller Drove a World Stark Raving Sane With ‘Catch-22’
I was supposed to be interviewing Heller about his latest book, “Now and Then,” a chatty, charming memoir of his boyhood in Coney Island and his adventures as a bombardier in World War II. But I spent most of the time asking him about “Catch-22,” which is my favorite novel of all time. It’s a strange, convoluted, grim, hilarious war novel that seems to suggest that the whole world is completely insane. This message confirmed suspicions I held when I first read it in 1958, and it has been corroborated countless times since then.
I told Heller that his crazy book had helped keep me sane. He smiled. He heard similar comments nearly every lime he ventured out in public. At a reading the previous night, a man stood up and publicly thanked Heller for “Calch-22.” “I read your book the day before I got called up for Vietnam,” he said, “and I have to tell you, it helped.”
Peter Carlson The Washington Post December 14, 1999
The first time I saw Joseph Heller, back in the late ‘60s, he was delivering a speech at New York University. That night, he revealed his plans for the future. “I’m going to live forever,” he said, “or die trying.”
On Sunday night, he died trying. A heart attack did what Nazi antiaircraft gunners failed to do back in World War II. The author of “Catch-22” and seven other books was 76.
The first and only time I had lunch with Heller was last year. It was the early days of the Monica Lewinsky scandal, which be was enjoying tremendously.
“I love it,” he said, smiling broadly beneath a fluffy halo of bright while hair. “The fact that it’s so ridiculous is what makes it so exquisitely entertaining to me.”
Heller was a connoisseur of the absurd. The scandal was providing delicious new realms of ludicrousness that not even he could have imagined. A few days earlier, Lewinsky’s soon-to be-fired attorney, William Ginsburg, had complained that his client’s life was ruined, that nobody would ever again want to date her or hire her.
“I wanted to call and say, “I’ll date you! I’ll hire you!” he cackled uproariously. Then he went back to his crab cakes. The man loved to eat.
I was supposed to be interviewing Heller about his latest book, “Now and Then,” a chatty, charming memoir of his boyhood in Coney Island and his adventures as a bombardier in World War II. But I spent most of the time asking him about “Catch-22,” which is my favorite novel of all time. It’s a strange, convoluted, grim, hilarious war novel that seems to suggest that the whole world is completely insane. This message confirmed suspicions I held when I first read it in 1958, and it has been corroborated countless times since then.
I told Heller that his crazy book had helped keep me sane. He smiled. He heard similar comments nearly every lime he ventured out in public. At a reading the previous night, a man stood up and publicly thanked Heller for “Calch-22.” “I read your book the day before I got called up for Vietnam,” he said, “and I have to tell you, it helped.”
A year earlier, in Prague, people kept buttonholing Heller to tell him that bootlegged copies of “Catch-22” had served as an antidote to the absurdities of life under communism.
Translated into nearly every written language, “Catch-22” has sold well over 20 million copies. It still sells briskly wherever human beings feel tormented by crazed bosses and mindless bureaucracies – which is to say, just about everywhere on the planet.
It is ostensibly the story of a U.S. bomb squadron In the Mediterranean during World War II and a bombardier named Yossarian who is driven crazy by the Germans, who keep shooting at him when he drops bombs on them, and by his American superiors, who seem less concerned about winning the war than they are about parades, loyalty oaths and getting promoted.
Yossarian is so crazy that he should be excused from combat but, alas, there’s a catch, Catch-22: You can’t be excused unless you ask to be excused, and anybody who asks to get out of combat is obviously sane and therefore ineligible to be excused.
“That’s some catch, that Catch-22,” Yossarian said.
“It’s the best there is,” said his buddy Doc Daneeka.
They were right. The term entered common language and earned a place in the dictionary. I read Heller the official definition from Webster’s: “a paradox in a law, regulation or practice that makes one a victim of its provisions no matter what one does.”
“That’s a better definition than I could give,” he said, smiling.
“Catch-22” begat several of its own Catch-22s. When it was published in 1961, critics complained that it was plotless, repetitive and incomprehensible. When the rest of his novels appeared, critics complained that he had again failed to write a book as good as “Catch-22.” Heller always had an answer for that “Who has?”
In 1998, a letter printed in the London Sunday Times kicked up a brief literary controversy by suggesting that many of the scenes in “Catch-22” were similar to scenes in an earlier war novel. The Sky Is a Lonely Place,” by Louis Falstein. The insinuation was absurd. It wasn’t the depiction of life in a bomber squadron that made Heller’s novel a classic; it was its grand comic vision of the absurdity of modem life.
Heller said he’d never read Falstein’s novel. “I find it funny,” he added, “that nobody else noticed any similarities, including Falstein himself.”
Heller never spent much time in Washington, but his writing revealed that he understood the culture of the federal city as well as any reporter. In “Closing Time,” his 1994 sequel to “Catch-22,” he captured the life of a hotshot K Street lawyer in the fictitious firm of Atwater, Fitzwater, Dishwater, Brown, Jordan, Quack and Capone: “He served often on governmental commissions to exonerate and as coauthor of reports to vindicate.” That novel also provided the most accurate extant definition of the Freedom of Information Act: “a federal regulation obliging government agencies to release all information they had to anyone who made application for it except information they had that they did not want to release.”
Life had a way of tarring Heller’s most outrageous satire into banal realities. In I979”s “Good as Gold,” he invented a president who spent his first year in office writing a book about his first year in office. This seemed far-fetched until New York Mayor Ed Koch and Minnesota Gov. Jesse Ventura spent their time m office writing books. In “Catch-22,” Milo Minderbinder, the wheeler-dealer supply officer, actually contracts with his enemies to bomb his own squadron. Critics considered this ridiculous until Oliver North, a Marine working for the United States government sold missiles to the same Iranian government that had earlier supported the terrorists who bombed a Marine barracks in Lebanon.
Joe Heller is dead but “Catch-22” will live forever. He would have preferred the opposite, but what can you do? Death is the ultimate Catch-22.
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Too easy to catch Heller out?
Initially published in 1961 to mixed reviews, Catch-22 might well have met the fate of most novels which, regardless of literary merit, soon go out of print and disappear. But Heller’s book generated popularity and sales by word-of-mouth, eventually tapped into the anti-Vietnam war Zeitgeist of the ‘60s, and now occupies a secure place in the contemporary canon. It has sold more than 10 million copies in the US and has, from the start, been popular in the UK where even its satirical anti-establishment tone didn’t prevent the Financial Times from declaring: “No one has ever written a book like this.” As a critical assessment, however, claims concerning Catch-22’s originality have always smacked of amnesia or ignorance. And-war novels, plenty of them coruscatingly funny and witheringly iconoclastic, have appeared in every language, and Heller himself has acknowledged his debt to Evelyn Waugh Celine’s Journey to the End of the Night and Dalton Trumbo’s And Johnny Got His Gun.
Mike Mewshaw The Jerusalem Post December 31, 1999
Joseph Heller’s death at the age of 76 earlier this month naturally refocused attention on his literary legacy, especially his first novel, Catch-22. Hailed as “wildly original,” “fantastically unique,” and one of the finest works of American fiction this century, Catch-22 quickly became more than a literary title. The phrase entered the modern lexicon as the hallmark of paradox, existential absurdity and black humor. As a comic exploration of logical lunacy on a cosmic scale, the novel presented its protagonist, Yossarian, as an Everyman trapped by a nightmarish “catch” or legal loophole. While officially a World War II airman who went insane could be grounded for medical reasons, anyone who asked to be scratched from bombing missions was automatically considered sane and forced to keep flying.
Initially published in 1961 to mixed reviews, Catch-22 might well have met the fate of most novels which, regardless of literary merit, soon go out of print and disappear. But Heller’s book generated popularity and sales by word-of-mouth, eventually tapped into the anti-Vietnam war Zeitgeist of the ‘60s, and now occupies a secure place in the contemporary canon. It has sold more than 10 million copies in the US and has, from the start, been popular in the UK where even its satirical anti-establishment tone didn’t prevent the Financial Times from declaring: “No one has ever written a book like this.” As a critical assessment, however, claims concerning Catch-22’s originality have always smacked of amnesia or ignorance. And-war novels, plenty of them corruscatingly funny and witheringly iconoclastic, have appeared in every language, and Heller himself has acknowledged his debt to Evelyn Waugh, Celine’s Journey to the End of the Night and Dalton Trumbo’s And Johnny Got His Gun.
Then almost two years ago a British bibliophile wrote to the London Sunday Times: “Can anyone out there account for the amazing similarity of characters, personality traits, eccentricities, physical descriptions, personnel injuries and incidents in Catch-22 and a novel by Louis Falstein, The Sky Is a Lonely Place [published a decade earlier]?” In a subsequent article, the Times noted a passage in both books that describes a bedridden, badly injured pilot. In Falstein’s book, the pilot lies “in a white cast. He looked entombed … like an Egyptian mummy. His arms were broken, and where his legs had been, there were cotton-swathed stumps. Only his face showed out of the cast, and there were openings at the bottom for bodily functions… An orderly, or nurse, held a cigarette for him when he smoked.” In Heller’s novel. “The soldier in white was encased from head to toe in plaster and gauze… A silent zinc pipe rose from the cement on his groin and was coupled to a slim rubber hose that carried waste from his kidneys.” Twice a day a nurse inserts a thermometer into the mouth of this “stuffed and sterilized mummy.”
Apparently dumbstruck by the correspondences, the Times attributed the Falstein passage to Heller, and vice versa. It did, however, provide accurate biographical information about the deceased and long forgotten Falstein who, it turns out, came from the same background as Heller. Both were sons of Russian Jewish emigre parents, came from the same borough of New York, Brooklyn, and served in Italy as airmen in American bomber squadrons. Duff Hart-Davis, son of Rupert Hart-Davis who published Falstein in England, speculated that Falstein and Heller were the same person, and The Sky Is a Lonely Place was “a practice run for Catch-22.”
Heller dismissed this as ridiculous and denied having heard of Louis Falstein or having read his work. “The similarities,” he explained to the Tunes, “come from a common wartime experience.” But then Heller turned around and questioned whether Falstein truly experienced what he wrote about. “Born in 1909, he would have been too old to fly [in WWII]. I don’t know what he was up to. There were a lot of strange people around.”
Days later, in an interview with the Washington Post, Heller insisted, “Given the amount of invention in Catch-22 it would be an amazing coincidence if there were fundamental similarities with Falstein’s novel.”
There the matter rested. No one appears to have read the two books closely and analyzed the comparisons. But in fact, whether through “amazing coincidence” or “common wartime experience,” there are indeed fundamental similarities between Catch-22 and The Sky Is a Lonely Place. While they don’t rise to the level of plagiarism, they do suggest that Heller might have been aware of Falstein’s work and that his fellow Brooklynite was as influential as the internationally renowned authors Heller cited as his sources of inspiration. Far from diminishing the achievement of Catch-22, this places it in its proper context as a distinctly American expression of New York Jewish sensibility, with an emphasis on manic exuberance, verbal pyrotechnics and slapstick comedy.
Falstein’s first person narrator, Ben “Pop” Isaacs, a gunner aboard a B-24, is Jewish, Heller’s central character, Yossarian, is an “Assyrian” crewman on a B-25. While Isaacs is far more earnest and less flamboyant than Yossarian – essentially he’s realistic rather than surrealistic – he is just as determined not to die, just as eager to finish 50 missions and go home – or, alternatively, convince a doctor that he’s too ill and emotionally unstable to go back into the air again. But just as Doc Daneeka bluntly tells Yossarian, “It’s not my business to save lives,” Doc Brown tells Isaacs, “My job is to keep the men in fighting shape, not on ground status.”
So weather and decrepit planes permitting, the two men continue to fly off to bomb unseen enemies for unknown reasons. Like Isaacs, Yossarian doesn’t wear a single flak jacket to protect his chest. He swaddles his whole body in flak jackets. Whenever they’re not airborne and on the brink of death, the characters in both books pass their time drinking, complaining, fretting, crying, playing cards, playing cruel jokes, fighting, visiting brothels and meeting Italians who are either childlike or cunning, venal or full of old world wisdom. Rain occasionally plays havoc with the flight schedule, keeping airmen safe on the ground, but this exposes them to the dangers of jaundice, hepatitis, deadly fevers and the fraying nerves of barracks mates who throw knives and fire off guns.
Focusing on the underbelly of war, Falstein, no less than Heller, populates his fictional world with bizarrely named characters. Mel Ginn, Cosmo Fidanza, Chester Kowalski, Charles Couch, Billy Poat and Jack “Doolie” Dula might have been transformed by Heller into Colonel Cathcart, Colonel Korn, Major Major Major Major and Captain “Aarfy” Aardvark. Falstein’s Master Sergeant Sawyer, like Heller’s Milo Minderbinder, skims off military supplies and foodstuffs to sell them on the black market, while at the same time hustling pornographic photographs. Men in both books have pet cats that sleep on their faces and have to be peeled off each morning. One of Falstein’s characters drives everybody crazy by tinkering with a broken radio, just as a Heller character puts Yossarian into a homicidal rage by disassembling and reassembling a stove. On the first page, Ben Isaacs meets a “stringy young Texan” who never misses an opportunity to fulminate about “niggers.” The title of Heller’s first chapter is “The Texan” and this character exhibits the same savage vocal racism. In both books, a man shrieks every time a bomb drops from the plane, another deals cards in a snappy explosive fashion, and yet another paints a bomb on his flight jacket to mark each successful mission. Everybody watches the red ribbon on the map that marks the advance of American troops and the bomb-line. As the ribbon approaches Vienna, a Falstein character comes down with diarrhea that keeps him from flying. When the ribbon in Catch-22 closes in on Bologna, an epidemic of diarrhea breaks out on the airbase.
In a sense, this best exemplifies the difference between The Sky Is a Lonely Place and Catch-22. In every instance, Heller pushes things further.
Taking as its motto, Whatever is worth doing is worth doing to excess, his novel is three times longer, more ambitious and relendessly comic, but also more repetitive and, in its weaker sections, sophomoric. Where Falstein heightens tension and sustains the narrative momentum in a conventional manner with crash landings, mid-air dogfights and fatal miscalculations, Heller raises the stakes and darkens the laughter in phantasmagorical scenes. Yet it must be remarked that compared to almost any author except Heller, Falstein displays an unparalleled gift for grand guignol violence and subversive humor. He describes military censors who delete words and reduce every letter, even the most banal love note, to gibberish (Heller does the same). He writes of a sergeant who is broken “to the rank of private for being apprehended in a House of Prostitution…without his identification tags” – not unlike Heller’s Yossarian, who is arrested in a brothel for being off base without a pass.
In The Sky Is a Lonely Place, a Christmas party dissolves into a bacchanal of singing, screaming and sobbing, and ends with an outbreak of gunfire that the men mistake for an enemy attack. “There were several more carbine pings, and somebody answered fire with a forty-five pistol.” Late in Catch-22, there’s a Thanksgiving “celebration [that] lasted long into the night, and the stillness was fractured often by wild, exultant shouts and by cries of people who were merry or sick. There was the recurring sound of retching and moaning, of laughter, greetings, threats and swearing, and of bottles shattering against rock.” Heller ends his scene, too, in gunfire as Yossarian charges out of his tent with a forty-five.
Finally, for fans of the X-Files, on page 128 of the British edition of Falstein’s novel, a plane carrying 10 men crashes onto the runway, disappearing so completely medics “couldn’t even find dog tags.” On the same page in the British paperback of Catch-22, a plane flies into a cloud, “disappearing … mysteriously into thin air with every member of the crew.” Coincidence? Or imitation as the sincerest form of flattery?
Granted, Heller had a point when he responded to questions about these similarities by observing that a great deal of war fiction depends on variations on the same themes and archetypes. But a careful reader of both texts could be forgiven for concluding that even at the level of language and linguistic play Heller has written an oblique homage to Falstein. Both authors chronicle the absurdity of existence, the capriciousness of authority and the emptiness of words leeched of meaning by constant abuse. Like the chaplain in Catch-22 who is ordered to compose a funeral prayer that doesn’t mention God or death, the narrator in The Sky Is a Lonely Place learns an early lesson in “airwar language” when he is warned, “never use the word Killed … we say a guy Went Down.”
On every page, the books uncannily echo one another as scabrous jokes, racial epithets, sexual ribaldry and sheer hair-curling craziness pour out of people. Again, Heller pushes it over the top, taking each trope to its limit. But both authors achieve a kind of demotic poetry, as when Falstein writes, “Grazie, Nazi,” and another soldier replies, “Prego, dago.” In Heller there’s rhyming dinner table dialogue, ‘Pass the salt, Walt/ Pass the bread, Fred/ Shoot me a beet, Pete.”
Of course, in a universe of pure contingency where chaos reigns and wars are won or lost by accident, not design, and soldiers survive or perish despite their courage or cowardice, it’s perhaps perfectly possible that two men, neighbors no less, would write hauntingly similar novels, would never meet or read one another and would then slip under the lid of the earth at the far ends of a spectrum that runs from utter obscurity to universal recognition. Talk about Catch-22!
[One of the principal characters in The Thin Red Line, Captain “Bugger” Stein, a career infantry officer and company commander, in an event clearly motivated by antisemitism, is unfairly relieved of his command and sent back to the “Zone of the Interior”, his military career effectively ruined. He vanishes from the story well prior to the novel’s end. Throughout James Jones’ novel, in his depiction of Stein’s personality, character, and confrontation with antisemitism, the author displayed a remarkable degree of perception, if not empathy, with the Captain’s predicament. How does this relate to Malick’s film? Well, though I haven’t viewed it (and have no plans to do so), it’s my understanding that Stein’s identity as a Jew – not entirely central to, but nonetheless a critical part of the novel’s plot and intentionally so – was entirely eliminated from the film, something remarked upon in only a few 1998 reviews. Just sayin’.]
Mentioned Above…
Falstein, Louis, Face of a Hero, Harcourt, Brace & Company, New York, N.Y., 1950
Falstein, Louis, Face of a Hero, Steerforth Press, South Royalton, Vt., 1999
Heller, Joseph, Catch-22, Dell Publishing, New York, N.Y., 1968
