Soldiers from New York: Jewish Soldiers in The New York Times, in World War Two: Captain William Hays Davidow [A Pilot’s Reminiscences]

WW II Army Air Force Captain William Hays Davidow, a pilot in the 12th Ferry Group and relative of Arthur Hays Sulzberger, publisher of The New York Times, was the ironic subject of an article item published in that newspaper on January 27, 1943.  The impetus for that news item’s appearance was Captain Davidow’s sad death in a take-off accident at Accra only six days earlier, on January 21, 1943. 

In the above-linked post about Captain Davidow, I presented the small measure of information still that exists about him now, in 2022, seventy-nine years later.  Given the passages of almost eight decades since the accident in which he lost his life, coupled with the fact that he left no descendants, his correspondence, military records, and related memorabilia probably no longer exists.

At least, that’s what I assumed as of December of 2021, when I last updated that post! 

But fortunately, I stand to have been corrected.

Recently, while researching the Air Force History Index, I was intrigued to come across an entry for an document entitled, “Interview with Capt. W.H. Davidow”, the abstract for which states that the document is an “Interview with Capt Davidow, Pan American World Airway, Covering Clipper Operations in South American, Africa, Middle East, India, and China.”  The interview is on AFHRA Microfilm Roll A1272, the document being one of several (I don’t know how many!) categorized under the subject heading, “Intelligence, Army Air Forces”.

Now, that was unexpected.

Comprising twenty-two pages of typewritten text, the document is headed, “Current Intelligence Section, A-2”, and is dated September 23, 1942, and consists of a series of questions by a “Colonel Coiner” to Captain Davidow.  Though Colonel Coiner’s full name does not appear in the interview, I think he was Richard T. Coiner, Jr., who eventually rose to the rank of Major General in the Air Force.   

Information supporting this suggestion comes from (Major General) Coiner’s biography, which states, “In January 1941, he organized the 19th Transportation Squadron which he commanded until October of the same year when he was named assistant executive to the assistant secretary of war for air.  In March 1944 he became the executive.”, and, “From March 1943 until February 1944, he was in Tampa, Fla., first as flying safety officer, Third Air Force, and later at McDill Field as commander of the 21st Bomb Group and then the 397th Bomb Group which he led in its move to England.”  The central theme being, that within the time period during which he met Captain Davidow – September of 1942 – he was involved in transportation and flying safety, rather than combat, the latter commencing for him after February of 1944.  A West Point graduate like his father, he passed away at the age of 70 in 1980, and is buried at Mission Burial Park South, in San Antonio, Texas.  

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But first, to re-introduce Captain Davidow, here’s some biographical information about him, extracted from and identical to that appearing in the above-mentioned “first” blog post:

This image of Captain Davidow standing in front a PT-17 Stearman biplane, presumably a semi-official portrait taken during his pilot training, appeared in the Scarsdale Inquirer on November 6, 1942.

A more formal portrait of William Davidow as a Flying Cadet, from the United States National Archives collection of “Photographic Prints of Air Cadets and Officers, Air Crew, and Notables in the History of Aviation“.  (RG 18-PU)  Lt. Davidow received his wings on August 15, 1941. 

This portrait of William Davidow appeared both in the Times’ obituary and the Lafayette College Book of Remembrance, the latter profiling alumni of Lafayette College (in Easton, Pennsylvania) who lost their lives in World War Two.

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And so, getting back to the interview?

It’s transcribed verbatim, below.

Immediately apparent is the unsurprising but notable fact that the interview focuses on flying, per se, rather than aerial combat, of which – by virtue of Captain Davidow’s assignment as a ferry pilot, geography, and the time-frame of late-1942 – there’s absolutely none.  In terms of enemy opposition in general, the only mention is that of being fired upon by the Vichy French while coming in to land at Fort Lamay.  (“Fort Lamay”?  I think that’s an alternate spelling of Fort-Lamy, which if so (!?) is currently N’Djamena, in the country of Chad, in central Africa.)  In a larger sense, the document is an overview of the challenges of flying – in terms of geography, weather conditions, navigation, communications, and the psychological and physical impact of such activity on pilots, in primitive conditions – throughout Africa, and secondarily in south Asia, during an era when flying did not have the naively unwarranted quality of taken-for-grantedness that it does now, in 2022.  (At least, for now.)        

The document sheds light on Captain Davidow’s sense of conscientiousness and his love of flying, but by definition and nature reveals nothing about him as a “man” … in terms of his personality, beliefs, and opinions.  Those thoughts, as they have for all men; as they eventually will for all men, have receded into history. 

To enable better comprehension of the interview, I’ve hyperlinked some place names and acronyms, and have provided current or alternate spellings for the names of less commonly known geographic features, cities, or locales.  These appear as italicized deep red text, just like “this”.

And so, without further delay…

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September 23, 1942

Current Intelligence Section, A-2

INTERVIEW WITH CAPTAIN W.H. DAVIDOW

PAN-AMERICAN

oOoOo

Lt. Colonel Coiner: These four captains have just returned from Accra.  We are going to ask Captain Davidow, who is to be the spokesman for the group, to tell us about some of their experiences and their operations with Pan-American-African on that route.  I believe you fellows also went to India once, didn’t you?

Answer: Yes.

Lt. Colonel Coiner: That was part of the operations.  Captain Davidow will lead off and bring us up to the present and the other gentlemen will make such comments as they think appropriate.

Captain Davidow: Well, gentlemen, I will start off with the very beginning.  When they first came to get us to go over on this job we were stationed at different fields throughout the country.  They came and asked for volunteers to go over for six months, on leave from active duty, to establish this line through Africa.  The four of us here today went over from _____ [this word left blank in original document!] School.  We were instructors there.  We went with Pan-American as co-pilots.

We left from New York by Clipper.  We went down to South America – Natal, and over to Lagos, and then to Accra.  Accra was then very different from what it is now.  We had about six planes over there and operations were very slow.  We only ran one or two trips a week, depending on what we had to move.  We didn’t have any brake drums on the planes.  One plane would come in and slip the brake drums.  They would service the plane that just arrived and take our another one.

Conditions over there at first were very bad.  We got over there in the fall just after the rainy season.  Malaria held up operations quite a bit.  We had no adequate medical facilities at that time, but we managed to get through that all right.

Gradually we got more and more personnel over there – more pilots, more planes.  First we would just fly from Accra to Takoradi [Sekondi-Takoradi] and Khartoum and over to Bathurst.  As time went on we extended our lines up into Cairo and eventually on over to Karachi, running a schedule three times a week, then seven times a week.  When we left they were running something like six planes a day over to Freetown and up the line to Cairo, Tehran, and over to Karachi.

Maintenance problems over there were very tough at first.  We didn’t have a supply of anything in any great number.  Everybody did a pretty swell job and pitched in.

At first a bunch of us – about 12 – were flying with the R.A.F., who didn’t have too much to do.  They had an over-supply of pilots.  We ferried some Hurricanes and Blenheims from their base at Takoradi to Cairo.

As we got more planes war was declared, cutting out pilot supply off.  We couldn’t get any more pilots from the Army.  All the men coming over were called back.  When our six months were up, they asked us if we wouldn’t stay on.  Then we were flying about 145 hours a month.  We were flying almost every day.  Some months all but two or three days we would fly.  They tried to get pilots over to us.  We got some pilots – civilian trained boys – who went in as co-pilots.  That is what they are using over there now.  All the original Army men are checked out.  The co-pilots are all C.P.T. [CP.T.P. – Civilian Pilot Training Program] boys with anywhere from 200 hours on up.

As it stood when we left, operations were running a regular schedule up into Cairo and then, as conditions warranted, branching off and going somewhere else.  About the time they were having a lot of trouble out in Burma, a group of our boys with 12 planes were called for by the 10th A.F. to act as transport group out there.  They operated all over throughout Burma and China – Leiwing, Lashio, and out of Dinjan, evacuating the Burmese and any supplies around in there.  Some of the stories they brought back are pretty remarkable.  Three or four of the boys took off with 75 people in DC-3s.  They are supposed to have 21 people on board.  With this load they flew over mountain peaks, no oxygen, 23,000 or 24,000 feet altitude, icing conditions, on instruments, no de-icers.  They take all de-icers off.  They brought back some pretty interesting information on what a DC-3 could do.

There was nothing very stereotyped about the work there.  A job would come up – they would come in and get a bunch of us and say, “We have such and such a job to do.  Let’s go.”  Just a little while ago, up in the Western Desert, they needed some fuses and 37mm shells in a hurry.  I think they had a 48 hours supply left.  Rommel was coming in from Mersa Matruh and they didn’t know whether they were going to stop him.  They woke the boys up in Accra and sent them down to Lagos, where they picked up the fuses.  They flew from Accra to Cairo in 24 or 25 hours, which is a distance of 3,500 miles.  They set a record for that run.  Of course, the British were there to pick up the fuses and get them on up.  That is fairly typical of the stuff they had to do over there.

We got some P-40s in for the A.V.G. [American Volunteer Group] when they were very hard up out in Burma.  A group of our men ferried them out.  I went as far as Cairo on that.  We flew those all the way up across the desert and into Dinjan and down into Kunming.  We only lost one plane which was bombed on the way on the ground.  Most of the trips we made with no equipment whatsoever in case we met up with the enemy.

On operations out of Accra our crew consisted of two men on board, the pilot and the co-pilot.  No navigator or radio operator.  The first group of us that got over there about eleven months ago learned the route pretty well.  When we started off we had no radio communications at all, no ground-air communications.  All we had was a map which was 1/2,000,000 and not too accurate.  We had very fine weather.  There is very good weather in the fall and right through to the early spring before you get the rainy season.  No clouds at all.   We were pretty lucky we got to know the route.  Now we have radio at every station and by now we have a D/F signal which they turn on for you when requested, at every one of our stations, Accra, Lagos, and Khartoum.  They don’t give you anything in Cairo because of Rommel being so close.  They give us a warning if an air raid is on.

A few months ago we started operations at night.  There were a lot of difficulties caused by it.  We had no facilities for that.  If we were caught in bad weather and the radio compass went out, we had no way of knowing where we were.  Operations were confined to take off at night and flying into daylight so when we got there we had a fair chance of knowing where you were regardless of the weather conditions.  They had flown the route actually landing at night.  A couple of times they had a little trouble in finding the destination.  All of the towers are blacked out.  I have come into Kano just after dark and I was close enough to know where I was.  If I had been down here (map) on my way up I would have had nothing to check on on a dark night.  The native camp fires are all over.  There were no beacons and then we didn’t have radio.  You can’t just tell – if your dead reckoning is perfect you hit it on the nose.

Weather information over there is very unreliable due to the fact that we have no meteorological stations through the area to give pressure readings and reports daily.  We do have stations at Fishermans Lake [Lake Piso or Lake Pisu], Monrovia, and Accra and Khartoum.  The rest of them are R.A.F. stations.  I would say that their weather reports, on the whole, are fairly unreliable.  We can never put too much faith in them.  We use them for indications: We go ahead and take a look at it – if it looks good we keep on going … if it looks bad, we go back.  The only kind of bad weather you get are the line squalls which can be very severe.  In late spring and summer this whole run is made completely on instruments.  Ewe make that almost every day.  You take off at Accra and climb up over the overcast and go all the way down on instruments and when you get there come in on D/F.  If you get a 200 foot ceiling that is fair.  If you get a 300 or 350 foot ceiling, it is good.  You take off again and come back on instruments.  It isn’t very rough; just rain and thick soup.

Weather up here (around Egypt) is mostly sand-storms.  Like thunderstorms, with a lot of sand in them.  That is about the most rugged thing you meet.  That is something we never do try to go through.  I tried landing in one at night and it was about the closest I ever came in getting messed up.

Our ground personnel was [sic] very inexperienced at first.  We had a bunch of college boys – young boys with no experience with airplanes, or airplane work.  They were smart and eager, but they didn’t know very much.  You would think sometimes they would give you a fair analysis of the situation that could be depended on.  That time I came into Khartoum an hour after dark, they told me there was a 30 mile wind with a little blowing sand.  It was dark and all I had was a flare.  I landed in a 50 mile cross wind in a sandstorm.  I learned a lot.  You learned not to trust anything over there except mostly yourself.

The food situation has been all right.  We had very good food for the first six months.  The second six months the supplies never did come through the way they should have.  A lot of stuff spoiled at first because preparations at Accra were not completed at the time the personnel arrived.  The generating systems weren’t set up.  The housing was bad – no screens and no medical equipment.  Sanitary conditions weren’t exactly what they should have been.  A lot of meat spoiled and things like that.  We always got plenty to eat.  Sometimes, though, it was what you might call exotic fare, but on the whole, everything went very well.  We all pitched in and everything improved.  By the time we left it was a very well-run organization, with trips going out.  We kept planes in the air all the time with minimum maintenance.  Our loads average up to 90%.  Very seldom do you take off without a full load.  At first most of them were over-loaded.

If there are any questions at all, I’ll try to answer them.

Question: Your pilots that have been flying across the ocean – did they report seeing any submarines?

Answer: I won’t say many, sir.  I guess about ten or twelve.  I saw one myself one day I was coming back from Bathurst.  I saw one right off Monrovia.

Question: Do they make any attempt to get away from Pan-American ships?

Answer: The one I saw, sir, I don’t know about the others, but one boy said he was fired on.  That was pooh-pooed by a lot of the British and Army men over there.  They thought it might be that he had been seeing things.  The one I saw was sub-surface at periscope depth.  I could see the outline of the sub.  IU came down fairly close to make sure it was a sub.

Question: Did it dive?

Answer: No sir.  It just kept going.  He was headed for Marshall where there were 25 ships in the harbor.  He was coming down the coast about eight miles off shore.  Of course, we didn’t have any guns or anything.  I didn’t have any code or any radio operator.  I just went back and radioed by voice.  I didn’t think I could get them, but I did.  I spoke to Accra and Kano, 1,700 miles away.  I reported a sub headed for Marshall.  They sent out word for the R.A.F.  We never heard what happened.  That is the way most of it goes.  We spot very few.  We fly down the coast here all the time.  There was the one I saw and one other.  Of the Air Ferries and the Army boys coming across, one said he saw four at one time all together.  But those cases are fairly isolated.

Question: The reason we asked is that we heard they made no effort to avoid the Clippers at all.

Answer: I don’t believe they did submerge when they saw them.

Question: Are your ships camouflaged like Army ships?

Answer: They were, sir, after December 7.  At first they were silver.  Some of them were painted desert tan, a sort of yellow, almost.  Now they are all green – dark green.  It doesn’t help very much in the desert, but it does in flying over this country (map) here.

One other thing I forgot to say – one thing that bothered us a lot – after we had this built up and we were getting 25, 35 or 40 ships on field at a time, B-24s – and up to 40 or 60 P-40s – I don’t remember how many planes, but one night we had about 90 planes on the field and we had four little pop guns for defense and they were handled by native troops of the English Army.  We had no defense whatsoever as far as combat aircraft went.  Colonel Harden said, “If they don’t come in and bomb us tonight, they are a lot stupider than I think they are.”  We didn’t have a thing.  We never had any planes capable of going up and engaging any enemy aircraft at all.  They could have come in any afternoon, or the middle of the day, and knocked down our operations, that is our headquarters there, which would have disrupted the line for I don’t know how long.

Question: We hear the weather is much worse in Monrovia than Accra.  Why would that be?

Answer: I don’t know, sir.  All weather charts list heavy rain all the way down and right at Accra there is a little clear circle.  It’s pretty bad right in through there, it’s true.  In the last three months, before I got back, I hadn’t been into Marshall on a clear day.

It was a circus coming in there.  You would have planes coming across the ocean.  You would get in there at 1,000 feet and call the radio and ask them if it was clear to come in for a landing.  “Yes, the wind is calm in any direction you want.”  Just a boy on the radio.  I remember one time when he told me that.  I took plenty of time to get an approach set and came in and made a landing.  No sooner was I on the ground than four planes came right down on the field.  They had been right up there with me.  One of them was on the field ready to take off.  He took off half way down the runway.  He looked up and saw a plane landing in the opposite direction on the same runway and so he headed off the runway and burned up.

There was a little confusion down there in had weather before we had any sort of control.

Question: There is a small circle of good weather at Accra?

Answer: Yes, along the West coast there.

Question: Have they got a good control officer in Monrovia now?

Answer: I think the main trouble was that the radio was located in a spot where he couldn’t possibly see the field and wouldn’t be able to see whether it was clear or not.  If he didn’t hear anybody else coming in – and many pilots didn’t report or check in with the tower – he would say it was clear for a take-off.  They probably have a tower out there now, so that they have a view of the field.  It was a pretty bad situation out there then.

Question: Is the emergency landing field at Roberts Port [Robertsport] valuable to you at all?

Answer: We use it a lot, sir.  The Clippers all come in at Fisherman’s Lake.  We had a good runway there – one end was unusable, because it was raining so much.  We would go over there to pick up freight – high priority freight – and passengers coming in by Clipper.  That is about twenty minutes flight from Montreal.  We would stop at Marshall going over to Fisherman’s Lake on a little runway – nothing but one single sand runway, and pick them up there.  If it rains a lot you can’t use it very well.  We use it as a regular field, not an emergency field.

Question: What is the largest plane that has been taken in there?

Answer: We took a DC-3 in there with 30 inches of mercury on a damp day.  I wouldn’t want to fly in anything heavier.  It is just sand.  We had a couple of planes stuck there for awhile.  In really bad weather we get a lot of rain there.  There is no surfacing at all.

Question: What is the Lagos-Calcutta Ferry?

Answer: I don’t know, sir.  We operate into Karachi.  From Karachi on the regular operations are by Trans-India transport.  C.N.A.C. [China National Aviation Corporation] picks it up from there, I think.  The only operations we used to do – we tried going through here (map) for awhile – the Southern Route through Arabia.  I went through there once and I almost got interned.  I made the mistake of staying overnight in a tent and almost got interned.  The Sultan wanted to know why I was there.  They closed that route – or they had when I left.  We ran occasionally to Calcutta [also “Kolkata”].  Ferry some DC-3s out there and stuff like that.  I think Pan-American comes in and fly [sic] their planes all the way there themselves.  Some of them get out as far as Kunming.

Question: What is your opinion of the route across the north of the Belgian Congo?  In case the other line is cut off?

Answer: I have never flown over that country, sir.  All of our operations have been up in here (map).  I don’t know what the fields are.  I know Captain Greenwood surveyed some of that stuff.  The airfields when he went there were quite small – in fact he barely got in and out of them.

Question: Do you have any suggestions to make on these operations – things that would make it easier or things that have been done wrong and should be corrected?

Answer: It would help a great deal if we could get competent weather information from men who know their job.  Of course, a place like Marshall, with a control system like they have, should be corrected.  I guess it is by now.  The main trouble at first, from the entrance of the war on, was such a shortage of personnel of our own and of the Army over there.  Men were taking over jobs they knew nothing about.  Army control officers would be boys who had been meteorologists here and made second lieutenants and were sent over, and the only personnel around some major control officer at a field.  The pilots coming through – the Army pilots – didn’t feel they were competent personnel to give orders and to advise them as to what conditions were along the route as far as briefing and everything else went.  They were probably excellent meteorologists, or whatever their special field was.  I think that condition no longer exists the way it was then.

Question: How about communications?  Air-ground radio?

Answer: It started off very poorly.  We all had to break in and just before we left it had gotten quite good.  Occasionally you would have a little trouble.  The thing is so important over there – it’s the only navigation aid we have – if a plane get off course, there are so few little check points throughout there.  You may go 300 miles without seeing a check point.  You come in on D/F.  If you call the station and can’t get him – the operator is asleep or busy, or on another wire.  There is a terrific amount of traffic and not enough channels.  They are using voice and C.W. [continuous wave Morse Code] on the same channel.  They are handling it very well considering the equipment.  They need more of it.  The airway are jammed most of the time.

Question: How about maps now?  Are they better maps?

Answer: The same maps.

Question: Are they putting out any photographs of the route to people at all now?

Answer: No, they haven’t any at all.  They are planning to make up new maps though.  They requested all captains of the ships to write up a list of their own personal check points, just where they are located, and turn them in to the chief pilot’s office so they may draw up more accurate maps.

Question: I have heard that a lot of the civilian maintenance personnel belonging to Pan-American-Africa are coming back.  Do you think that they would go back if they were asked to go?

Answer: I have heard they would, sir.  The top foreman over there, who has been over there ever since they got organized – I saw in New York – said all the boys wanted to come back almost 100% for at least a vacation.  They were all stuck in one spot and while there most of them were working up to 18 hours a day.  In places like Khartoum, were it gets to be 135o, they would work all day in the sun until they just dropped, literally.  They lost weight and were in pretty rotten shape.  They did a wonderful job and had a swell spirit de corps.  They wanted to get home.  If they went into the Army now, the Army told them they would try to give them leave as soon as possible.  They don’t feel they want to get into the Army until they know exactly.  I hear they are coming home and Ryan, the foreman, said he thinks at least 90% of them are perfectly willing to go back if they are asked.

Question: What is the general character of the country between Accra and Khartoum as you fly over it?

Answer: Right in here (map) we fly over water.  (All this with map:)  This is all jungle.  This is Vichy territory.  All of this in here is jungle.  You come on up here.  About in here it starts to think out a little – more bush.  It stays bush country all in through here to Port Lamy [N’Djamena], getting dryer and hotter all the time.  When you get up to El Fashir [Al Fashir, Al-Fashir or El Fasher] it starts to get desert with occasional bush.  Sandy country.  From Khartoum on up to Cairo, of course, it is nothing but sand and rock.  As far as the terrain goes, in here you have quite a mountain range, goes up to 12,000 feet.  You have in between Kano and Lagos various hills, not going up that high.  Down south of it, southeast, there are some mountains there.  This is all just flat desert, nothing to distinguish it very much.

Question: How do you fly that country from Khartoum to Cairo?  Did you ever lose any planes on that route – get lost with all that sand and crap?

Answer: You can’t get lost, sir, if you remember which side of the Nile you are on.  The Nile goes right on up.  We go straight up.  Here you meet the Nile.  You meet it again here and here and at Cairo.  If you don’t meet it here for awhile, you keep heading in left.  If you don’t meet it up here you lose heading in right.

Question: There aren’t any check points?

Answer: The worst place is between Khartoum and El Fashir.  There you have nothing.  Our check points here – the first place you get a check point is a little mountain 45 minutes out.  Then the sand turns white in a spot out here.  That is a check point.  That is the last check point you have until you hit El Fashir.  That is 525 miles, two check points.  Actually only one, the mountain is almost at Khartoum.  That is the place where we had the most trouble when we had no radio.  El Fashir is a tiny little town, must [sic] little black mud huts along the river bank.  It is not a river, but a little stream.  Streams like that are every 50 yards throughout the country.  If you don’t get within five or ten miles of El Fashir, you have no idea where you are.  Of course, going up the other way, you always hit the Nile.  I know a bunch of our pilots wandered around for a couple of hours trying to find the place.  All the airports are so hard to distinguish.  You can fly right over top of an airport and never see it.  They are not actually towns, just a group of huts, and they look like any other river bank.  Most of the river banks in the summer are black with black shrubs.  The huts look the same in the air.  You can’t see them at all.

Question: Did you have any contact with the Vichy French?

Answer: Yes, at Fort Lamy.  Of course, they used to shoot at us.

Question: I mean, did you get a chance to talk to them?

Answer: Yes, but I don’t speak good French.

Question: What, in general, was their attitude toward the Americans?

Answer: They like us.  They are a fine bunch.  We had several in Fort Lamay.  Our of our planes operated with the French for awhile up into the desert.

Question: You are talking about the Free French.  How about the Vichy French?

Answer: No contact at all with them.  The Free French and not the Vichy French shot at us.  They had been bombed and they fired at us even if we were coming in to land.

Wait a minute, I was shot at, and I think somebody else reported they were shot at.

Question: In Vichy territory.

Answer: We were supposed to stay away from all Vichy territories.

Question: There aren’t any spots for emergency landings on the Western end of the route are there?

Answer: Only the coast, sir – the beach.

They have little fields in between Lagos and Kano.  They have one field at Oshogbo  [Osogbo (also Oṣogbo, rarely Oshogbo]] which you practically never see.  It is always overcast, but it is there and a very good field.  In here (map) you have little tiny clearings in the sand that are spotted on some maps and aren’t spotted on others.  All the way up they have little cleared places and they have been used.  B-24s and B-25s have come down there and waited for daylight to find out where they were and go again.  Up here (map), of course, you land almost anywhere you want to.  They have a fair number of little auxiliary fields, but you can’t bring good equipment in really safely.  They are there, but I don’t think you could find them when you needed them.

Question: Do you know from where the airplanes took off that bombed Fort Lamy?

Answer: I don’t believe so, sir.  They think they came from Zinder [also Sinder].  That is where they though they came from at one time – I don’t know whether they ever verified this.

It was just one plane that came.  Everybody was at lunch.  It just flew in and dropped its bombs.

Question: Did you have any trouble over there because the route wasn’t militarized, or have you had any thoughts on that at all?

Answer: I never experienced any personally, but I think the only difficulties were due to a civilian agency working along with the Army in later stages.  That comes up anytime you have one group that thinks it is doing a swell job and there is a little rivalry in between.  There was a liaison problem there.  But as far as we were concerned, we were half and half anyway.

The only thing was they were needing pilots badly there for operations expected of them.  Just couldn’t get them anywhere.  They were getting a few now and then – also maintenance men and new equipment.  That was the chief problem as far as operations and line and equipment.  They were doing the best they could.  They expected to double their operations and couldn’t do it as a civilian company.  Couldn’t just go out and hire the people.

Question: Merely personnel and supply problem rather than personal?

Answer: That was the whole trouble.

The Words They Left Behind: American Jewish Soldiers in The Great War – A Century of Brief Memories

Photographs can enliven words.

And sometimes, whether in symbolism or reality, words can illuminate photographs.  

Such is the case in “this” post.  Continuing with – ahh, but perhaps not concluding! – my writings covering the military service of American Jewish soldiers in the First World War (through a general overview of the military service of American Jewish soldiers during that conflict, in three parts: herehere, and here; via photographic portraits of American Jewish WW I soldiers from the state of Pennsylvania who were military casualties (herehere, and here); and, by biographical profiles of American Jewish soldiers who were military casualties on November 11, 1918), this post presents documents found in Ancestry.com’s collection “Pennsylvania, U.S., World War I Veterans Service and Compensation Files, 1917-1919, 1934-1948”.  In terms of depth, detail, and variety of documents, the Pennsylvania collection is by far the richest – ranked by state – of Ancestry’s collections covering the WW I service of American soldiers. 

Along with wartime photographic portraits of soldiers, the most interesting documents in the Pennsylvania collection are “Veterans Compensation Applications” and “War Service Records”. 

The reason being?  These documents were completed by veterans themselves, or, in the all-too-inevitable instances where a soldier never returned, by friends or family members. 

In terms of the former, information in these records comprise a soldier’s own, freshly remembered accounts of his wartime service (in his own handwriting!), which recount his service in abbreviated, varying, but always revealing fashion.  And, for the purposes of a blog in this is year of 2022 (!), they typically include errors of spelling in terms of geography, which have lent an interesting challenge to writing this post.  (!!)  In any event, given that well-nigh unto a century has transpired since these documents were written, however brief, they may be the only records of military service personally left by these veterans.

In terms of the latter, the information in these documents is typically all-too-terse, albeit there are exceptions, exemplified by Veterans Compensation Files for Sergeant Irving Sydney Clair and First Lieutenant Edward Benjamin Goward.   

And so, this post is comprised of accounts from Veterans Compensation Applications and / or  War Service Records for ten soldiers.  Of these ten, eight survived the war.  They were:

Private Jacob Burstein – Wounded in Action
Sergeant Joseph Leopold – Slightly Wounded in Action
Private Charles Levin – Wounded in Action
Private Samuel Polingher – Shell-Shock
Private Jacob Rubinstein – Wounded in Action
Private Daniel Stein – Wounded in Action
Private Samuel Weiner – Wounded in Action
Private George Winokur – Slightly Wounded in Action

For these men, I’ve transcribed – a verbatimly as possible – their written accounts, while (where possible) clarifying spelling mistakes for geographic features and city names.  I find that of Private Polingher particularly moving and inspiring, for refreshingly, in a matter-of-fact and entirely unapologetic way, he mentions, “Arrived Luneville Sept. 15th. where all the Jewish boys celebrated Yom Kippur and on our arrival we were met the branch reformed Jews”.  But really, all the accounts are interesting.  

The two men who did not return were:

Private Aaron Caplan – Died of Wounds

The second sheet of Private Caplan’s Veterans Compensation Application includes correspondence, in Polish, with the Chairman of the Board of that city’s Jewish Religious Community, Izrael-Boruch Liberman, and, the city’s mayor, J. Piaskowski.  

Private Harry Ellman – Died of Wounds

Private Ellman’s mother signed her name to his Veteran’s Compensation Application in Yiddish.

And so, a century after they were written, some brief writing from the past return to the present.  Will there be other wars, from which will arise future Veterans Compensation Forms?  I don’t know.  (Who does?) 

Perhaps it is better that the future is unknown to us.  (Perhaps.)  

***  *** ***  *** ***  *** ***  *** ***  *** ***  *** ****

Burstein, Jacob, Pvt., 3,106,468
79th Infantry Division, 316th Infantry Regiment, E Company
Wounded in Action (gassed) 9/28/18
Mrs. Florence (Cantor) Burstein (wife), Charlotte Joyce and Lenore Debra (daughters), 6114 Ellsworth St., Philadelphia, Pa.
Mr. and Mrs. Joshua (“Shaya”) and Frida Riba (Ben) Burstein (parents); Mrs. Lena Levy (sister), 4068 Lancaster Ave., Philadelphia, Pa.
Born Riga, Lativa, 11/24/94
Philadelphia Inquirer 11/15/18

Arrived in Camp Meade Md. May 26th 1918. 

Left Camp Meade for overseas about July the 6th 1918. 

Left New York harbor for France July the 9th, arrived in Brest France July the 18th. 

We sailed on the S.S. Agamemnon, which was called before the war Kaiser Wilhelm the II.  We stood in Brest for about 4 or 5 days. 

After traveling in box cars from Brest for about four or five days and nights we landed in Vause.  It is a small town located about twenty kilometers from Dijon.

From Vause we hiked over to a little village Cussey it is about 5 kilometers from the town mentioned above.  We were training there until the later part of August. 

From there we left for the Front.  Before we got to the front we were under fire many times. 

September the 26th 1918 my Division the 79th took part in starting of that big drive in the Argonne Forest.  I was a platoon runner in my company.  September the 28th 1918 I was gassed. 

I was transferred from one hospital to another for several times until I landed in base 53 it was a gas hospital and it was located in Congres. 

After I left the Hospital, I was sent around to several camps until finally I was classified in class B2, which it meant from 3 to 6 months behind the lines, which at the mean time I was guarding German prisoners. 

After the Armistice was signed November the 11th 1918 they never returned me to my original outfit.  I was guarding the German prisoners until December outside of Bordeaux. 

And I sailed for the U.S. on the S.S. Chicago with a Casual Company.  Arrived in the U.S. Jan. 24 – 1919 and was discharged Feb. 8th 1919.

____________________

Caplan, Aaron, Pvt., 3,174,043
4th Infantry Division, 58th Infantry Regiment, F Company
Died of Wounds 11/16/18
Previously Wounded – on 10/1/18
Mr. and Mrs. Chaim and Ruchla Caplan (parents), 26 Krakowska, Augustow, Poland
Mr. Perrine Caplan (uncle), 5723 Hobart St., Pittsburgh, Pa.
Mr. Charles Caplan (brother), 410 East Murphy Ave., Connellsville, Pa.
Born “Kalwari”, Poland / Russia, 8/16/94
Beth Hamedrash Hagodol – Beth Jacob Cemetery, McKees Rocks, Pa. – Section C, Row 2, Lot 54

podpisu Przewodniczacego Zarzadu gminy wyznaniowej zydowskiej
August p. Izraela-Borucha Libermana, niniejszem stwierdzam.
Miasto Augustow, dnia 30 kwietnia 1935 roku
P.o. Burmistrza

The signature of the Chairman of the Board of the Jewish Religious Community
Augustow, p. Izrael-Boruch Liberman, I hereby affirm.
The city of Augustow, on April 30, 1935
After. The Mayor

Wlasnorecznosc podpisu p.o.Burmistrza m.Augustowa J.Piaskowskiego, oraz autentycznosc odcisnietej pieczeci urzedowej stwierdzam. –
Miaso Augustow, dnia 30 maja 1935 roku

I certify the ownership of the signature of the Mayor of Augustow J. Piaskowski, and the authenticity of the imprinted official seal. –
The city of Augustow, on May 30, 1935

Stwierdza sie niniejszem wlasnorecznose podpisa Starosty Stefania Ejchlera oraz autentycznose odeisnietej pieczeci urzedowej Starosty. Powiatowy g. Augustowa 13 maja 1935

It is stated hereby self-signed by the Starosty Stefania Ejchlera and an authentic stamp issued by the Starosty of the County of Augustow 13 May 1935

____________________

Ellman, Harry (Tsvi bar Yitzhak ha Kohen), Pvt., 1,830,815
80th Infantry Division, 320th Infantry Regiment, I Company
Died of Wounds 10/2/18
Mr. and Mrs. Isadore and Dora (Sternberg) Ellman (parents), 97 Taranilor St., Soroca, Bassarabia, Rouamnia
809 Anaheim St., Philadelphia, Pa.
Born “Loblien” (?), Russia, 12/5/94
Beth Abraham Cemetery, Pittsburgh, Pa. – Section 2, Row 19, Plot 4

Harry’s mother’s name appears on the form in Hebrew, with the direct translation being “Dora Helman”, despite the English-language spelling being “Elman” or “Ellman”.  Adding a silent “hey” at the end of a name was not uncommon.  (Translation by Naomi Cohen.  Thanks, Naomi!)  

This image of Harry’s matzeva is by FindAGrave Contributor Richard Boyer.  As immediately revealed by the carving of a pair of hands with opposing fingers paired as “Vs”., let alone by Harry’s Hebrew name – Tsvi bar Yitzhak ha Kohen – Harry was a Kohen: A descendant of Aaron, brother of Moshe Rabbeinu.  

____________________

Leopold, Joseph, Sgt., 1,239,347
28th Infantry Division, 110th Infantry Regiment, A Company
Slightly Wounded in Action 9/28/18
Mrs. Leah (Finkelstein) Leopold (wife), 420 West Susquehana Ave., Philadelphia, Pa.
Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin and Fannie (Rittenberg) Leopold (parents), 2408 South 2nd St. / 1120 S. 2nd St. / 2533 South Philip St., Philadelphia, Pa.
(Philadelphia Inquirer lists address as “1127 S. 2nd St.”)
Born Philadelphia, Pa., 12/19/93
Philadelphia Inquirer 12/18/18

Engagements – 5th German offensive from July 14 to July 27th, 1918.  Advance on the Ourcq & Vesle river July 28 to Sept., 1918 inc.  Meuse Argonne offensive from Sept 26th to Oct. 9-18. 
Slightly wounded Sept. 28th 1918
(This was taken from discharge)

These two news articles and the accompanying photo, presumably from either The Philadelphia Inquirer or Philadelphia Bulletin, are also in Sergeant Leopold’s Veteran’s Compensation File.

Sergeant Leopold, son of Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Leopold, 2408 South Second Street, was wounded on the third day of the big Allied drive from the Marne, when he and an officer of the 110th Infantry went out scouting into No Man’s Land.  He received his wounds trying to save his superior officer, who was also struck down by bullets.  Leopold is now recovering in a base hospital in France.

***

On the third day of the big Allied drive from the Marne, a lieutenant and a sergeant of the old Third Regiment, N.G.P. [National Guard of Pennsylvania]., now the 110th Infantry, went out into No Man’s Land on a scouting expedition facing a rain of machine-gun bullets.

Both were carried back wounded, the “non-com” sustaining his injury in a heroic attempt to rescue his superior officer.

The hero is Sergeant Joseph Leopold, 1120 South Second Street.  He is now recuperating in a base hospital and expects to be sound again within a few weeks.
In a letter to his parents, Benjamin and Fannie Leopold, 2408 South Second Street, he describes his thrilling experiences.

____________________

Levin, Charles, Pvt., 554,314
26th Infantry Division, 103rd Field Artillery Regiment, F Battery
Wounded in Action 7/18/18 (“high explosive in leg”)
Wounded in Action  10/7/18 (“gassed”)
3206 West 8th St., Los Angeles, Ca.
Mr. and Mrs. Harris and Yetta (Meltzer) Levin (parents), 317 Chestnut St., Pottstown, Pa.
Born Rochester, N.Y., 2/24/99
Philadelphia Inquirer 12/22/18

I have lossed my discharge – some years back so am putting down dates from memory –

When I enlisted in Pottstown I gave a false age saying I was 21 yrs old on July 6th 1917 –  Did so because I was afraid they wouldn’t take me or that I’d have to get my Parents consent which I didn’t want to do at the time –

____________________

Polingher, Samuel, Pvt., 2,667,070
37th Infantry Division, 146th Infantry Regiment, A Company
Shell-Shock (date not specified)
Mr. Mabel Polingher (wife), 3322 Pennsylvania Ave., NW, Washington, D.C.
Mr. and Mrs. Benzin and Fege (“Fannie”) Polingher (parents), Hyman Polingher (brother)
Born Romania 8/26/97; Died 5/11/65

Private Samuel Polingher

Leaving Philadelphia April 26, and arriving at Camp Lee Virginia the same day. 

The next day I start in training for a soldier live to prepare myself to fight the Germans, and I got along fairly. 

Leaving Camp Lee June 19 – 1918 – arrived at Hoboken, N.Y. [sic] June 13 –

Leaving Hoboken June 15 – arrived at Brest June 22 

Leaving Brest June 24 

Lodged one night at Brest in the Historical Napalion [sic] barracks. 

Leaving Brest June 25 – arrived at Bormount June 29 

Hiked 15 kilors to Somary Court where we were trained until July 23th

Leaving July 23 – arrived at Rambersvill July 24 –

Leaving Rambersvill July 26 on trucks we rode the whole night we pasted the town named Bacarat [Baccarat] and got off in the woods  It was raining the whole night and we began to realize what prospect we have for our future days, there is no doubt that we were all disgusted and I thought myself the only thing we must have is rations and this was the first time that I had to pitch a pup tent. 

My partner was a good little fellow and of course he helped me and it didn’t take us long and we had a swell home we got some branches of Pine trees and we laied down on the ground in order to make our bed soft and comfortable  My partner and I went to sleep and it started to rain good and hard we heard lots of shooting but we were very tired and we fell asleep and about 10:30 our corporal came and gave us an alarm  Boys get up and make your packes  Of course no candles were allowed to be lit and just think it was dark and raining, but still I heard my corporal shouting boys we are going over the top and we didn’t know where we were going, but he said we are going out on the road with our packes and start to hike in the darkness that night to a town with the name Bartichomp at 3 o’clock that morning

There were a group of our men from each company to learn how to throw hand granades  [grenades]  We stood there 2 days and we left for a village named Vacavill where we were four days around the out skirts of Vacovill then we left for the front line trenches 

And we came to the trenches at two o’clock at night arriving at the front line trenches August 5th fighting as much as our Americans boys could of done 

We left the trenches August 10th arrived at Indian village and at Bacarot Aug. 11th

Leaving Bacarot Aug. 15th arrive at Vacavill Aug. 16

Leaving Vacavill Aug 17th arrived in the wood of Vacavill and then left for St. Marrice  Arrived Aug. 30th

We stood in the support line trenches leaving St. Marrice Sept. 15

Arrived Luneville Sept. 15th. where all the Jewish boys celebrated Yom Kippur and on our arrival we were met the branch reformed Jews

Leaving Lunveille Sept. 16 arrived Barzing Sept. 17

Leaving Barzing Sept. 17

Arrived Bacarot Sept. 18 where we got on the train and arrived at Haironvill [Haironville] Sept. 19 and left Sept. 20

We got on the trucks which was driven by Chinese drivers  We pasted through the town named Ba-ladut and got of in town named Jubnvill. 

Arrived at the Orgonde [Argonne] Forest at night Sept. 22 –

Leaving the forest Sept. 26 and also made a nice big steak and a cup of coffee before we started the big drive. 

We started our great offensive against the Prussian guards which put up a strong resistance. 

Arrived at the front line trenches at six o’clock in the morning and began to go over the top  We reached our first objective the town Mont Foucan [Montfaucon] Hill Number 304 and then we reached our second objective  the formers dead Mans Hill No. 305 and we were released by the 32 Div.

Leaving Sept. 30 arrived at Ricicort [Récicourt] Oct. 1 leaving Oct. 3 

Arrived at Ja_ Oct. 4 and leaving Oct. 4th. 

I have much more to write but I think it will take up to much space so I came to a close.

By Private Samuel Polingher

____________________

Rubinstein, Jacob, Pvt., 1,785,617
79th Infantry Division, 315th Infantry Regiment, Machine Gun Company
Slightly Wounded in Action 9/29/18 (“gassed”)
Mrs. Dora (Borden) Rubinstein (wife), Rose, Evelyn, and Eugin (daughters and son), 4301 Atlantic Ave., Wildwood, N.J.
Mr. and Mrs. Wolf (“William W.”) and Anna Rubinstein (parents), 2103 N. 31st St., Philadelphia, Pa.
Born “Tcherkass”, Kiev, 1896
Philadelphia Inquirer 12/1718

Have been gassed, it happened this way. 

One dreary rainy night, being packeted in a little street between Mountfocan [Montfaucon] and the Hun, Frits finally got my number, a gas shell hit a man (standing in front of me) who fell right on me and I inhaled the perfume 

Have been in about 25 Hospitals, Convalessense, Replacement Camps  Have made good use of the French 8 horses or 40 men box cars.

Our Co. has been stationed in the following villages Shattelonot, Haronvill [Arronville?], Dombasel [Dombasle-sur-Meurthe?]

After the Armistice I found my Co. in Etray, then we hiked to Shomont Sur oir [Chaumont-sur-Loire], had a 120 mile hike with stops in about 50 villages, then settle in Remacourt a big Base Hospital center

Then a five day trip to Verton a little, rest and homeward bound to St. Nazier [Saint-Nazaire]

There we stayed 4 days and moved 8 times

Have been categorized and sterilized, and undergone inspections of all descriptions.

But one little incident that I’ll never forget.

That was in St. Agnion [Saint-Agnan] a Replacement Camp where they worked Christmas and New Years

One rainy day on detail as usual, the Commanding Officer some Major past us by and made the following remark

“I don’t see why the Government raised your wages at that time when 50c a day is too much for you.” But he is excused.  This prohibition wasn’t in force in France.

____________________

Stein, Daniel, Pvt., 1,237,695
28th Infantry Division, 109th Infantry Regiment, L Company
Wounded in Action 7/15/18
1006 East 12th St., Chester, Pa.
Mr. and Mrs. Nathan and Clara (Brodman) Stein (parents)
Mrs. Max Rubin (aunt), 215 Christian St., Philadelphia, Pa.
Born Philadelphia, Pa., 6/9/98
Enlisted in 1917 without informing parents.
Pennsylvania Veterans Compensation Application: “Veteran’s service credited to New York and has failed to furnish proof of Pennsylvania residence.”
Philadelphia Inquirer 8/30/18

This half-tone photo of Pvt. Stein (certainly taken before he was Private Stein!) was published in the Philadelphia Inquirer on August 30, 1918.  

In order to make my service record clearer, I’ll elaborate my service.

Co. L., 13th Inf. Is the original organization I joined in 1917.  Around the beginning of 1918, we were reorganized and called the 28th Div., hence Co. L., 109th Inf.

July 15th, I was wounded; July 18th I became a prisoner-of-war; until Dec. 7th when all of us were released and brought to Vichy, France.

A few weeks later we were organized into Casualty Companies at St. Agnan, France; and as a member of Co. I – 1st Bn – 143 D.B. I came home and was discharged at Camp Dix, N.J.

Daniel Stein

____________________

Wiener, Samuel, Pvt., 1,240,238
28th Infantry Division, 110th Infantry Regiment, M Company
Wounded in Action 8/25/18
2547 West Division St., Chicago, Il.
Mr. and Mrs. Alexander and Ida (Glick) Wiener (parents), 932 N. 2nd St., Philadelphia, Pa.
Born “Rovno” (?), Russia, 7/18/96
Occupation: Employee of Dupont in Wilmington, De.
Philadelphia Inquirer 10/6/18, 12/21/18

Begun July 21 at Phila., 3rd Pa. Inf. Armory ‘till 8/10
Camp Taylor 69th Market Sts ‘till Sept. 10th
Camp Hancock, Ga. Sept. 15, 1917 until April 24th
Arrived Camp Merritt April 27th 1918
Sailed for France May 2nd.
Arrived at Liverpool England May 16th 1916
Went to France May 17th.
Arrived at Cailais [Calais] France same day.

Philadelphia Inquirer
October 6, 1918, or, December 21, 1918

The Americanization of young “Sammy” Weiner, which began just nine years ago when he reached the United States an emigrant boy from Russia, passed through the final stages on the fields of France in July and August.  As a member of the 110th Infantry he went unscathed through the seering [sic] blasts of German fire along the Marne in July and participated in the stirring pursuit of the boche from the Ourcq to the Vesle.  The 110th reached the Vesle on August 6 and the next day Private Wiener wrote a brief letter to his mother, Mrs. Ida Weiner, 832 North Second Street.

The weeks passed after that with no news until last Saturday an ominous looking telegram came from Washington.  Mrs. Weiner does not read English and she turned the telegram over to her daughter.  It stated: –

“We regret to inform you that Private Samuel Weiner has been missing in action since August 26.”

Mrs. Weiner came to this country from Russia some years after her son landed here, yet she, too, has absorbed the spirit of the American mother.  Her daughter translated the flow of Jewish [Yiddish] from her lips: –

“Sammy loves his new country, and I love it and I have given him willingly.  But if he is missing I feel sure that he will turn up all right.”

Private Weiner is 22 years old.  He enlisted in the old Third Regiment, in July, 1917, and went with it to camp Hancock where it was transformed into the 110th Infantry and he was assigned to Company M.  He came home in his soldier suit on a short furlough just before the regiment sailed overseas last May, and it was a question who was the more proud, the mother at the sight of her stalwart son in khaki or the lad himself in the new uniform just issued to him with the crossed rifles on his collar and the jaunty overseas cap.

Wiener was down at the Du Pont plant in Wilmington, Delaware, making powder for the Allies when this country entered the war.  He stayed on the job for a month or more and then came home.

“I guess I’ll have to go shoot some of the stuff I have been making at the Germans,” he explained to his mother, and went down to the recruiting office and signed up in the Third Regiment.  He was mustered in out at Bywood [a neighborhood in Upper Darby, a suburb of Philadelphia adjacent to the western edge of the city of Philadelphia], and was out of the awkward squad and full-fledged soldier before the regiment _____ for its final training. 

____________________

Winokur, George, Pvt., 1,900,879
82nd Infantry Division, 326th Infantry Regiment, B Company
Slightly Wounded in Action (“gassed”) 10/13/18
435 Segal St., Philadelphia, Pa.
Mr. and Mrs. Max and Sarah (Tonkonoff) Winokur (parents), 1821 S. 5th St., Philadelphia, Pa.
Born New York, N.Y., 12/21/94
Philadelphia Inquirer 12/25/18 (Philadelphia Inquirer lists surname as “Minokur”, and lists date as 10/13/18)

I went in France April 28, 1918 and I was in the Toul Front on July.  And also in the Champaine [Champagne] Battle and I got gassed in the Arrogone [Argonne] Forrest. 

I had my gas mask on for 6 hours in a shell hole and my gun was broke from shrapnel and I was taken to a field dressing station & then sent to a base hospital. 

I came back with the _____ Ship and it took eleven days & I went over in six days with the Marratannia.  [Mauretania] I am now well & in the best of health.

George Winokur
1821 So 5th St.
Phila. Pa.

 

A Century of Soldiers: A Jewish Infantry Officer in the United States Army in World War One: First Lieutenant Edward Benjamin Goward of the 28th Infantry Division

In a prior post, I told the story of Sergeant Irving Sydney Clair, who, while serving in the United States 28th “Keystone” Infantry Division, was badly wounded in mid-July of 1918.  Though completely blinded, he survived the war, only ironically to pass on from illness in early 1919, in the United States.  Unlike many other Jewish WW I soldiers profiled at this blog, his story could be related here in “full” – at least, compared to that of other Jewish WW I military casualties – principally by virtue of a lengthy news article that appeared in the New York (Albany, to be specific) newspaper The Argus in December of 1918, as secondarily via articles in newspapers serving southeastern Pennsylvania.  

I related Sergeant Clair’s story in the context of a series of blog posts  covering the military service of American Jewish soldiers during the First World War.  These comprise a general overview of the military service of American Jewish soldiers during that conflict, through coverage of this in the general and Jewish news media (in three parts – herehere, and here); via photographic portraits of American Jewish WW I soldiers from the state of Pennsylvania who were military casualties (herehere, and here); and, by means of biographical profiles of American Jewish soldiers who were military casualties on Armistice Day; November 11, 1918. 

Another Jewish soldier whose life and military service can be recounted in detail (at least, relative detail) was like Sergeant Clair also a Philadelphian:  He was First Lieutenant Edward Benjamin Goward, Company Commander of M Company, 110th Infantry Regiment, 28th Infantry Division.  The son of George and Mary (Astro) Goward, 1616 North Marshall St., Philadelphia, Pa., he was born in that city on September 15, 1894.  A graduate of the University of Pennsylvania (class of 1916), he’d previously served on the Mexican border.  

____________________

Shoulder sleeve insignia of the 28th Infantry Division.  Though this specific patch dates from the Second World War, the insignia has remained unchanged since the design’s creation in 1918.  

 

____________________

On July 29, 1918, while leading his troops, Lieutenant Goward was mortally wounded by a sniper.  His second-in-command, Lieutenant Thomas B.W. Fales (also a Philadelphian) immediately came to his aid, but Lt. Fales, as well, was shot – also mortally wounded – by the same sniper.  Seeing the plight of the two officers, Sergeant Howard L. Barnes in turn went to help, but he, too, was shot.  Fortunately, Sergeant Barnes survived his wounds.  He passed away at the age of 71, in the year 1954: In another time, and, within terms real and symbolic, an entirely different United States.  

Lieutenant Goward was buried at Montefiore Cemetery, in Jenkintown, Pennsylvania, on January 18, 1922 (Section E, Lot 1, Grave 3)  (Lieutenant Fales rests at the Oise-Aisne American Cemetery, at Seringes-et-Nesles, France.)  News articles about him appeared in the Evening Public Ledger (9/6/18 and 5/15/19), and Philadelphia Inquirer (9/7/18, 10/27/18, and 1/19/22).  Curiously, his name is absent from Haulsey, Howe, and Doyle’s 1920 Soldiers of the Great War – Memorial Edition.  

This posts presents transcripts of news articles about Lieutenants Goward and Fales in chronological order. 

I’d initially hesitated in presenting this sad story in its full detail, but, realizing that it’s better to have a story told, than forgotten, it fully follows below…

____________________

Here’s Lieutenant (at the time, Sergeant) Goward’s portrait from his Pennsylvania WW I Veterans Compensation File.

____________________

7 City Soldiers Dead and 7 Hurt
Five Army Lieutenants From This Section Among Casualties

Evening Public Ledger and The Evening Telegraph
Friday, September 6, 1918

Seven more Philadelphians have been added to the heroes from this city who have given their lives for the country on the battlefields of France.

The death of two Philadelphia Lieutenants – Edward B. Goward and Thomas B. Fales – are reported unofficially in a letter written by a soldier in France.  The reports are confirmed by an officer who has returned here from France and is now in this city.

Lieutenant Goward was killed while acting commander of Company M, 109th Infantry, formerly the First Pennsylvania, and Lieutenant Fales was second in command.  Both men were reported wounded on July 30 last, but the official casualty lists from Washington have as yet made no mention of their names.

The author of the letter, Supply Sergeant Charles McFadden, 2nd, also asserts in his latest letter that the Old First was virtually wiped out – that of twelve infantry companies hardly enough men were left to make up one company. 

“When this letter reaches you, the State of Pennsylvania will be in mourning,” he wrote.

Sketches of Heroes

Lieutenant Thomas B. Fales, widely known cricketer and a nephew of John Wanamaker, fell at the head of his company, according to an official report received here today.  He is said to have been shot six times, once through the lungs and five times through the abdomen.

The report of his death is contained in a letter received here by Charles McFadden, Jr., 4032 Walnut Street, from his son, Charles McFadden, 3rd, a supply sergeant of Company M, 109th Infantry.  The report of his death and that of Lieutenant Goward is confirmed by Lieutenant William Stephenson, 1449 Cayuga Street, of Company I, who is now in this city to act as an instructor.

Lieutenant Fales, who is the son of the late Mrs. Mary W. Fales, 4407 Spruce Street, was cited for valor on the battlefield during the defense of the Marne about the middle of July.

Lieutenant Fales was thirty-two years old and a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania.  Before enlisting he was a member of the firm of Fales & Dutcher.

He was reported wounded on July 30; his family received word to that effect from letters written here by members of his company.  They were unable to confirm the report in Washington.  Neither his name nor that of Lieutenant Goward has appeared in the official casualty list.

Lieutenant Edward B. Goward, 1618 North Marshall Street, was a newspaper man of this city before he enlisted in the service.  Information to the effect that he was killed is contained in the letters received by Mr. McFadden from his son.  Writing of the death of Lieutenant Goward, Sergeant McFadden said:

“He was put in command of our company, with Lieutenant Fales, a pal of mine from the officers’ training school, as second in command.  After two days of fighting through the woods, we had to advance down a hill, across a small river and up another hill, all in the open.

“The boche were entrenched around the edge of a wood, with a bunch of machine guns and he gave us h___, we took the woods, but in doing so Lieutenants Goward and Fales were killed.

“Goward was hit once in each shoulder and a couple of times in the stomach.  If his name is published in the papers, tell dad to call up his father and tell him that Eddie died at the head of his men and that his men would have gone through h___ for him.

“He was considered one of the bravest men in the regiment and had a very rosy future before him.  He is buried where he fell, on the side of a hill near Courmant.

“Our American graves are marked with a small wooden cross, with the soldier’s identification tag tacked on it.  Fales was killed and buried near the same place.”

Lieutenant Goward was reported wounded in action on July 30 in a former letter received from Sergeant McFadden.  The War Department has no confirmation of the report of Lieutenant Goward having been wounded.

The last letter received from the lieutenant by his mother, Mrs. Mary Goward, said he had been acting as forward observing officer “in a busy sector,” but had been relieved and was then in the rear.  This was before the time fixed by Sergeant McFadden as the day when he was killed.

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Sons of State Disregarded All Hazards to Crush Foe

French Commander Lauds Pennsylvanians for Remarkable Record Made After Reaching Vesle River

Evening Public Ledger – Philadelphia
Thursday, May 15, 1919

Thomas W. Fales, a Philadelphia boy and lieutenant in M Company, 109th Infantry, gave up his life in the fighting at Courmont, on July 29.  His commander, Lieutenant Edward B. Goward, went forward forty yards to reconnoiter and was hit in the head by a sniper’s bullet.  Lieutenant Fales crawled out to his rescue.  A German bullet hit him in the head.  Sergeant Howard L. Barnes, seeing the plight of his two superiors, crawled out to rescue them, but met a similar fate.

Sergeant Walter Miller was more fortunate in the rescue work and reached the trio without getting hit.  Lieutenants Fales and Goward refused assistance and ordered Miller to carry Sergeant Barnes to the rear.  He obeyed the command.  Fales and Goward died before their company reached them.

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Philadelphia Inquirer
September 7, 1918 or October 27, 1918

The death in action of Second Lieutenant Goward, Company M, 109th Infantry, has finally been confirmed by the War Department.

The confirmation shatters the unyielding hope which possessed the young officer’s mother, Mrs. Mary Goward, 1616 North Marshall Street, from the first report that he had been killed.

Lieutenant Goward died at the head of his platoon in an attack on a machine gun nest in a woods south of the Curcq River on July 29.

To his comrades he was known as an heroic officer and soldier with a personal disregard of self and a supreme contempt for German bullets.

He and Lieutenant Thomas G.W. Fales, led the charge which cleared out the machine gun nest.  Lieutenant Fales, too, fell on that eventful day, and the War Department has as yet given no information to his parents at 4407 Spruce Street.

Both men had come unscathed through the terrific fighting south of the Marne River when M Company of the 109th Infantry, was cut off and almost annihilated.  Lieutenant Fales at that time won a citation for the way in which he rallied a few survivors and took them back to the regiment.  Lieutenant Goward was serving as a sergeant in the headquarters company at the time, he having not yet received his commission, which was won at the Third Officers’ Training Camp at Fort Hancock.  After July 15 he was assigned to M Company under Lieutenant Fales.

Lieutenant Goward was a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, where he won the Latin prize, and enlisted in the old First Regiment of the National Guard at the outbreak of the war.  The War Department confirmation of his death, said tersely: –

“We regret to inform you that Lieutenant E.G. Goward, infantry, was killed in action, July 19.”

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LIEUT. THOMAS FALES KILLED IN FRANCE

Man Who Met Death of a Hero in France Engaged to Marry Miss Ethel Badgley

Word was received today by Rev. and Mrs. J.T. Badgley that Lieut. Thomas B.W. Fales, of Philadelphia, who was engaged to marry their daughter, Ethel, has been killed in action in France on July 30, in the fiercest of fighting. He was shot six times, once through the lungs and five times through the abdomen. Word came through a letter written by Miss Badgley at the Fales home in Philadelphia.

Lieutenant Fales and another young officer of Co. M., 109th Infantry, who also was killed, were leading a charge against the Germans when they made the supreme sacrifice.

Information of their death was received from comrades and later confirmed by a letter from Lieut. Wilson Stephenson, of Co. M, of Philadelphia. The names of the two dead officer have not yet been listed with the official casualties, but a number of letters have been received by relatives telling of their deaths together with some of the details, leaving no doubt of the truth.

One of the comrades of the two men in writing about their death spoke of their bravery and declared that the regiment had almost been wiped out – that of the twelve companies hardly enough men had been left to make on full company. Lieutenant Fales was officially reported as wounded a week ago, but later this was officially denied.

Lieutenant Fales was thirty-two years old and was a nephew of John Wanamaker. He was a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania and at one time was widely known as a cricket player. He also was a fullback on the soccer teams in 196 and 1917.

At almost the beginning of the Allied drive in July along the Marne, he was mentioned in the despatches for his gallantry in leading a party of men out of a desperate situation when they got too far advanced. The regiment of which Lieutenant Fales was a member was in the thickest of the fight and is said to have been the means of turning the ride in a fierce fight in which the Germans were pushing the Allies.

Miss Badgley and Lieutenant Fales met in Philadelphia about three years ago at the wedding of the latter’s brother and their acquaintanceship later ripened into love and about a year ago their engagement was announced.

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Here’s Lieutenant Goward’s War Service Record, as completed by his mother in June of 1919…

Enlisted as Private
During summer of 1916 located at El Paso Texas
Discharged October 1916.
Called back to service March 1917.  Guard duty in vicinity of Harrisburg.
Camp Hancock September 1917 until April 1918.
Camp Upton from April 26th, 1918 until May 2nd, 1918.
France from May 1918 until his death in action July 29th 1918.
July 1916 Corporal
March 1917 Sergeant
Top Sergeant December 1917
Second Lieutenant, July 1918
First Lieutenant, end of July
Acting Captain of Co. M. 109th

Lieut. Goward was killed in action July 29th, 1918, while leading Co. M. of 109th.  The details may be obtained from the accompanying newspaper account.  He is buried in a cemetery at Courmont, France.

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The matzevot of Lieutenant Goward and his mother, at Montefiore Cemetery, Philadelphia, Pa…

…and, the title page of The Record – the Class Yearbook for the University of Pennsylvania – for the class of 1916…  

…within which, an entry for Edward Goward appears on page 49…  

…while here’s his portrait.

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This portrait of Thomas B.W. Fales as a civilian – his University of Pennsylvania graduation portrait, as well? – is via FindAGrave contributor Robert Sage…  

…while this picture of his tombstone, at the Oise-Aisne American Cemetery and Memorial, in Picardie, France, is via Linkert.  

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According to the May 15, 1919, issue of the Philadelphia Evening Public Ledger – Philadelphia, “Sergeant Howard L. Barnes, seeing the plight of his two superiors, crawled out to rescue them, but met a similar fate.”  But, this sentence is quite ambiguous and open to different interpretations, for it does not specify what his “fate” actually was.  Was Sergeant Barnes killed?  Did he survive?  If so, how badly wounded was he?

Documents in his Veteran’s Compensation File reveal the answer:  Sergeant Howard Logan Barnes, although badly wounded by a sniper, did survive the war.  Though this “Immediate Report of Death” (a one-page form not uncommonly found among documents pertaining to soldiers who were killed in action, or died of wounds) indicates that he died some time between July 28 and 31, 1918…

…another very brief document (not illustrated in this post; it’s as physically small as it is brief) simply states that he was wounded in the right elbow and right thigh.  

Sergeant Barnes’ survival is further and solidly attested to by this Abstract of Military Service which, though it lists a very incorrect date when he was wounded (not October 26!), verifies his survival.  

And finally, we have a Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Honor Roll record completed by the Sergeant’s mother in March of 1919, in which information about the July incident is absent.   

And last, a quick check of FindAGrave reveals that Howard Barnes – born in Wayne County, Pa., on April 15, 1894, passed away in that locale on November 17, 1954, at the age of 71.  He’s buried at Fairview Memorial Park, in Lackawanna County.  

A Century of Soldiers: A Jewish Infantryman in the United States Army in World War One, and, After: Sergeant Irving Sydney Clair of the 28th Infantry Division

In several prior posts, I’ve presented an overview of the military service of American Jewish soldiers during the First World War, through a general overview of the military service of American Jewish soldiers during that conflict and coverage of this in the general and Jewish news media (in three parts – here, here, and here); via photographic portraits of American Jewish WW I soldiers from the state of Pennsylvania who were military casualties (here, here, and here); and, by biographical profiles of American Jewish soldiers who were military casualties on Armistice Day; November 11, 1918.  Each of the men so presented merits the story of his life to be told in completeness, but, through the inevitably of time’s erasure of human memory – sometimes abrupt, sometimes gentle – and the gradual loss of personal memorabilia and historical records (let alone for the sake of physical brevity – in a format like “this”!) this simply isn’t possible: We have to go with what we have.  We have to go with the information available to us. 

Yet, for two particular soldiers, a fuller story can be told, by virtue of numerous, or, lengthy and substantive, news items.  One such soldier, whose story is related here, is Sergeant Irving Sydney Clair (serial number 1,235,015), while the other – to be presented in a subsequent post – is Lieutenant Benjamin Goward.  

Born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, on the 1st of January in the year 1894, Sgt. Clair was the son of Samuel and Minnie (Friedman) Clair, the family residing at 4800 Walnut Street, though another place of residence having been 3230 Berks Street, in Philadelphia. 

Assigned to A Company, 109th Infantry Regiment, 28th “Keystone” Infantry Division, Sergeant Clair was severely wounded in action on July 15, 1918, while coming to the aid of a wounded comrade, Corporal Ralph Ferdinand Shortall. 

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This example of the shoulder sleeve insignia of the 28th Infantry Division dates from the Second World War.  The insignia has remained unchanged since its creation in 1918. 

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Though he certainly survived the immediacy of his injuries – at least, going by historical records and news articles – he passed away from an altogether different cause: While undergoing rehabilitation at United States Army General Hospital Number 2, at Fort McHenry, Baltimore, he passed on from meningitis  The date was the 5th of February, in the year 1919.  

Four days later, he was buried at Har Nebo Cemetery, in Philadelphia.  (Lot 2, Grave 1599).  

News articles about Sgt. Clair’s military experiences appeared in a variety of newspapers.  These include the Philadelphia Inquirer (8/10/18, 2/8/19, and 9/4/19), Evening Public Ledger (8/22/18, 12/1/19, and 10/16/20), and Patterson Morning Call (as in Patterson, New Jersey) (9/4/18).  Curiously though, the mostly lengthy, revealing, and poignant account of his story – ‘”I Have Not Paid Too High a Price’, Says Sightless Sergeant Clair'” – authored by Margaret M. Lukes – appeared in The Argus (published in Albany, New York, between 1865 and 1921) on December 1, 1918.  (Lukes’ article was found via Thomas M. Tryniski’s Fulton History website.)

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Akin to photographic portraits of other soldiers within Pennsylvania World War I Veterans Service and Compensation Files (via Ancestry.com) here’s Corporal (not yet Sergeant!) Clair’s photo.

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This news article appeared in either the The Philadelphia Inquirer or The Philadelphia Bulletin.  Its specific date is unknown; probably late 1918.

IRVING SIDNEY CLAIR

After having erroneously reported Sergeant Clair as having returned to duty, the War Department today listed him as wounded severely.  Sergeant Clair, who was the first Philadelphia boy to be blinded in the war, is at present in this country.  He was sent here to convalesce and has recovered so rapidly that he is expected today at his home, 3230 Berks Street.  The young sergeant was studying law at the University of Pennsylvania before the war and despite his blindness expects to continue his course.

Clair was reported missing on July 15.  A letter received from him by his mother, Mrs. Minnie Clair, 3230 Berks Street, dated August 4, states that he is wounded and that he is in a base hospital.

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Here’s Margaret M. Lukes’ lengthy December 1, 1918 story from The Argus.  The image has been digitally edited to display its three illustration’s separately.

“I Have Not Paid Too High a Price” – Says Sightless Sergeant Clair

THE night the newspapers blazed forth the lines “Berlin Sends Deputies to Conclude Allied Armistice Terms” Sergeant Irving Sidney Clair, of the 109th Infantry, sat in the dining room of his home in Philadelphia with his arm around his little sister.  To be exact he was running his fingers through her thick golden hair, aglint in the light of the lamp.  There was a general conversation, feverish, light-hearted going on.  Then suddenly it stopped.  Sentences half finished faded into the air.

“Why, let me feel it,” a strong voice in the other side of the table was saying.  “I’ll bit it’s twice as long as when I went away.”  And we sat there in silence, watching the strong, vigorous hand of the soldier slowly make his way through the shining hair of the beloved little sister, in whose name he had made out his life insurance.

If there were stray tears hastily flicked away in that room that minute, why then they did no harm.  White bandages tightly bound around a man’s eyes are merciful trappings for those who come for the first lime to wring the hand of a boy who gave his eyes for his country.  In a minute the room was ringing with laughter and college day reminiscences again.  And Sergeant Clair, two years ago a boy of twenty-two entering his third year law and that night home from the war totally blind, will never nnow there were those about him who laughed through a mist of tears.

Or if he does know we are never going to be aware of it.

“I Am Going to Win”

With all the world standing on the threshold of a peace where men will be forever safe from the mad burst of shells that maim, with America herself in the main unbroken, Sergeant Clair, who gave the gift that all the indemnities of the earth cannot pay back, smiles cheerfully.  Eyes are no longer the windows of the soul.  Tile spirit of a man never shone more vividly than from that splendid sunburned face gleaming bronze against the while gauze.

“I have not paid too high a price,” was the way he explained things.

Sergeant Clair will never see again, but he is content.  This young man who gave his eyes to America is more.  Sitting there, with strong eager hands unlike the hands of the blind because they lately belonged to a boy who was winning medals for athletics in school, this youth outlined a program of stupendous courage that can well serve as a flaming banner for all the men who must march down the ways of life paying the price of victory as they so.

“I am going to win out,” he said.  “Eyes do not count; legs and arms do not count.  It’s the man inside that matters.  Eyes do not count.  Why, I can see with my memory.  You won’t believe that.

“Well, I wouldn’t have believed it if you said it to me five months ago.  Then I looked at blindness as a seeing man looks at it.  Now it is different.  I look at it as a blind man looks at it.  And I know blindness to the blind isn’t the crushing thing or the handicap it appears to the outsider.

“I am going to be a lawyer, as I had always planned to be.  The Government will pay for my schooling.  I am going to try to make good because I believe making good depends on the determination in a man.  It’s up to the stuff inside of you.”

Strictly speaking, Clair gave his eyes in the cause of world democracy.  But in the fine human vernacular of the trenches he gave his eyes for a pal.  The cane which the Republican committee of his ward presented him has in letters of gold, “Blinded in the Second Battle of the Marne, July 14.”  All America knows now it was on July 14 the 109th massed itself near the banks of the Maine, waiting to hurl back what proved to be the last offensive of the Crown Prince of Germany.  On the 15th the Germans crossed the Marne and the Americans attacked and pushed them back.  On the 14th, Bastille Day, the bombardment began and men went mad, targets for the first time of the most terrific artillery fire the world had ever known.

That tells part of the story.  As for the rest:

Blinded Helping Comrade

A boy named Shortall was hit.  That was what he called out.  “I’m hit.”  Through the whizz and the bang of shells Sergeant Clair heard.  Out through the rain of death he scooted to try to give first aid.  Just as he was bending down to cut away Shortall’s puttees with his trench knife a shell exploded in his face.  Clair was shot high in the air.  When he came down he was on his back.  It was at that moment, 5 o’clock on a sunlit afternoon, Clair discovered he could no longer see.

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I don’t think the shell’s explosion was anywhere near as visually simple and – for lack of a better word, “clean”, as depicted in this accompanying sketch, but, w e l l…  I suppose this is how such things were depicted by the standards of the news media in 1918.  Then again, perhaps there is something to be said in favor of obfuscation.  

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Here’s Cpl. Shortall’s Abstract of Military Service, listing the date on which he was wounded as about July 15, 1918…

…followed by his Veteran’s Compensation Application.

Born on February 7, 1891, Ralph F. Shortall passed away at the young age of 52 on March 5, 1943.  He is buried at the Philadelphia National Cemetery.  

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There are eight totally blind soldiers back home in America.  Clair is one of them.  Together with some twenty other partially war blind they are stationed at Base Hospital No. 7, the Government’s experimental hospital for the blind in Baltimore.  Sergeant Clair goes home to Philadelphia every other week-end on furlough.  It was on the second trip home I went to talk to the blind soldier.

Science can make artificial arms for men., she can make legs, but there never have been discovered eyes with which a man can see.  There have been men in this war who have said they would rather die over there in France than come home blind.

Knowing all this, then, it was not easy to undertake to talk to a man whose war fate had been what is universally considered the supreme sacrifice.  There is a service flag hanging in the front window of the home where young Clair lives with his mother, Mrs. S. Clair, who is a widow; Arthur, and Harry his brothers, and Miriam, the little twelve-year-old sister he has always been peculiarly attached to.  I have seen many service flags, but this was more poignantly different than them all.  Back of the little square through the window and in the light I could see a boy with his eyes swathed in bandages, and I knew he would never see again.  There were boys all around him, some in sailor suits, some in khaki, and there was his mother back of his chair.  And there was no one in the room who was not laughing at a joke the lad with bound eyes was telling.

Inside in the luxurious living room which showed so plainly how many of the good things of life had always been Clair’s, that was the first swift impression you formed of him.  He is a boy with a natural ability to make others laugh.  Yet the theme of this young man’s life ran far deeper.

It was Reuben, a student at the University of Pennsylvania and one of the boy’s best friends, who made me realize what despair blindness could have brought into the life of Clair if ambition had not been tempered with the quality that made him throw ambition to the winds when war was declared.

Pictures of Memory

“He was a chap who hitched his wagon to a star,” Reuben told me.  “At eighteen with most boys it is here one day and some place else tomorrow, as far as definite aims are concerned.  But it wasn’t that way with Clair.  He knew what he wanted, law.  He dreamed it and lived it.  A boy can’t help knowing when he has the power to sway the crowd, and that is what Clair has.  At high school they always singled him out to be spokesman for his class, and it seems he was forever at the head of things.

“Is,” as many of the boys affectionately call the wounded soldier, was a member of the class of 1910 at Central High, where he achieved laurels in sports as well as in studies.  Later be won a scholarship.

Tire scholarship entitled him to a full course of law at the Temple University.  He was entering his third year when America declared war on Germany.  Then it was Clair stripped the dreams out of his life.  With the vanguard of the country’s young manhood he was off to a training camp.  Because he had unlisted at the time of the trouble at the border, “Is” was automatically a member of the old Pennsylvania First Regiment, and he went to Camp Hancock, in Augusta, with the others.  Last May, with the rest of the Twenty-eighth or Iron Division, Clair sailed for France a corporal in Company A, 109th Infantry.

I! was July 13 when the five fleets of motortrucks brought the 109th into fighting position at Conde-en Brie and St. Agnan.  Then came July 14.

Clair does not mind talking about that day.  It was after most of the boys had drifted out he came into the dining room, played with his little sister’s hair, teased her about her little beau, Martin, and between times talked of the things that had come into his life in France.

I have told how Sergeant Clair’s sight was destroyed as he bent over a young corporal to try to ease his wounds.  The boy picks up the narrative here and tells a story that illustrates another matchless friendship that flowered in the muddy trenches of France.

“What happened to me after I found myself on my back?” he continued.  “Why Barrett ran like lightning to me.  Who is Barrett?  Why it seems funny for any one around here not to know.  He is William Barrett, a boy from Bristol, who went to the border with the old First when I did.  Then we went to Hancock together, then to France and to the Marne.  Barrett was my best pat all the way through.

“The shells were bursting all around, but Barrett lifted me up quickly.  He put my arm around his shoulder and we walked back together that way.  We thought we were going to the dressing station.  But we found they all had been moved back on account of the heavy artillery fire.  But the ambulances were beginning to come up for the wounded.

“Barrett put me down on a stretcher beside Shortall, the boy I tried to help, and the two of us lay there for three quarters of an hour with shells sweeping over us.  That was the worst part of it all.  The shells were corning, and we were helpless.

“Were you in pain?” one of the boys asked.

“No.” was the answer.  “I was more worried about Ralph Shortall than anything else.  He was groaning so and in such pain.  They had to take his right leg off later on.”

“Didn’t you groan too?”

“Well, I really wasn’t in much pain,” answered “Is,” “and I guess I didn’t have anything to groan about.  I couldn’t see, of course, but it wasn’t until I got back to the States I knew I would always be blind.

“Barrett went right back to the firing line after he left us.  In thirty-minutes he was severely wounded himself.  I believe they had to take off an arm and possibly a leg.  I am worried about Barrett.  I don’t know where he is.”

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Here’s William Barrett: Specifically, his photographic portrait, from his Pennsylvania Veteran’s Compensation File.

William Barrett’s Abstract of Military Service, confirming that he was wounded on July 15, 1918…

…and, his Veteran’s Compensation Application.

William Cresswell Barrett passed away on July 13, 1966, in Lebanon, Pa.

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In the course of his conversation young Clair spoke of the beauty of Grande Fontaine, the little headquarters town in that particular part of the Marne battlefield.

“There was a wonderful big fountain there in the middle of the town – that’s how it got its name.  I used to love to watch it sparkle in the sunshine.”

Over and over again he repealed the words, “I can see with my memory.”  What farewell pictures there must be stored in the mind of this splendid boy.

In those last days of sunshine there was the Marne, little blue stream of destiny, sparkling down through its green banks.  There was the Eiffel Tower, miles away in Paris, that could be seen in the vast lovely distance of the sky on a clear day.  There were the warm poppies and the little wild flowers of France spread like delicately colored tapestry in graceful profusion over the hills.  There were the sunsets and the nights with their stars that came to blot out the devastation of the day.

But if there are pictures stored away against the day when hunger for the beauty of the world might gnaw at his heart, the boy who gave his eyes for the great intangible cause does not say.  If there are things locked in his heart the world is not going to know about them.

Young Clair’s attitude toward blindness worries his mother sometimes.

“I think sometimes he does not tell how he really feels for fear it will make me worry,” she says.  “When I went lo Baltimore to see him that first time I did not know I could stand to set my boy blind.  He was such a wonderful son.  Then I did see him at last.  Then he told me how he felt.  And, oh, I was so glad to have him back, to touch him and be near him.  Pretty soon he wanted to talk-about the business, which he was very much interested in since his father died.  Then we sat there together and talked things over.  Suddenly I discovered I had forgotten he was blind.  You can’t know what that feeling meant to me.  I knew my same boy was back again in spite of anything that had happened.  I knew he could go on living his life as he had planned.

“Colonel Bordley, in charge of the base hospital there, told me there was no hope for his eyes.  They are going to operate on his left eye.  Of course I do not know what that means.  I am not going to give up hope, though.  But down there, although they cannot say he will see again, they say wonderful things about what my boy is going to be able to do without seeing.”

Clair is the only professional man out of the eight who are totally blind back in this country.  It is natural his case should provoke unusual interest, his progress in the studies for the blind is already said to be marvelous.  Mrs. Clair produced a little letter her son had written on the typewriter, learning without his eyes in the few short weeks he has been in America the touch system to such a degree of proficiency that there were only two misplaced letters on the entire page.  At the hospital, an estate turned over to the Government by Mrs. T. Harrison Garrett, of Baltimore, there are regular classes held all day, with intervals for gymnasium and swimming.  Clair divides his time between the Braille, which is learning to read” by the raised letter method, and typewriting.

From a Mother’s Letter

There was a sentence in Sergeant Clair’s letter to his mother which seemed to stretch its significance beyond the little typewritten page.

“If you want to meet me, all right.” he wrote, “but you know that I can get home alone in case you can’t make it.”  That is the spirit of Irving Sidney Clair, blinded in the second battle of the Marne.  He can get along.  The Government allots to him $100 a month for the duration of his life.  It is not too much to say Clair is not going to need his pension.  The dreams and surgings that whispered to him back in the days when the war was mercifully hidden in the future will come true.  This boy, who gave his eyes in order that the rest of us might go on seeing, shall not die with his song unsung.  We shall hear from him later on – Clair, the lawyer who won with his brains.

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Probably dating from late 1918 or very early 1919, this news article was (as above) probably published in the The Philadelphia Inquirer or The Philadelphia Bulletin.

Although he lost his sight in a battle in France, Sergeant Irving Sidney Clair, of Company A, 109th Infantry, will continue the study of law, which he had been pursuing at Temple University previous to his enlistment.

He is twenty-four years of age, a son of Mrs. Minnie Clair, 3230 Berks Street, and is in a hospital for blinded soldiers in Baltimore.

His courage and his devotion to his duty as a non-commissioned officer were displayed when he risked his life to bind the wound of a fallen comrade.  As the sergeant bent down to ease the pain of the wounded man a shell dropped before him and, exploding, blinded him.

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Here’s Sergeant Clair’s War Service Record, as completed by his mother in June of 1919…

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…and, his Matzeva, at Har Nebo Cemetery, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

____________________

MY BELOVED SON
AND OUR DEAR
BROTHER
SGT. IRVING S.
CLAIR
Co. A. 109TH. U.S. INF
BLINDED IN THE 2ND
BATTLE OF THE MARNE
JULY 15TH, 1918.
DIED
FEBRUARY 5TH, 1919
AGED 25 YEARS
ת׳ נ׳ צ׳ ב׳ ה׳

Soldiers from New York: Jewish Soldiers in The New York Times, in World War Two: May 4, 1945 – United States Navy – Naval Aviator Saul Chernoff – II [Revised post…!]

[First created on April 6, 2022, this post has now been updated … read on! …

As you can read just below – as the very “opening line” of this post, “Sometimes, it is a good thing to be wrong.” 

I penned that sentence as a result of having received – to my happy surprise and great appreciation – information and numerous photographs about Lt. JG Saul Chernoff, as a result of the appearance of the December, 2021 post Soldiers from New York: Jewish Soldiers in The New York Times, in World War Two: May 4, 1945 – United States Navy – Naval Aviator Saul ChernoffFrom Donna and Susan, Lt. JG Chernoff’s nieces, this material transformed their uncle’s identity from that of a mere “name and serial number” to a person with a fully three-dimensional life in history, and has been the basis for “this” second post, which was created in early April of 2022.

With that, Donna has clarified an aspect of their Uncle’s story about which was a little “off” – geographically speaking, that is.  This pertains to the photograph of Saul and his sister Lillian.  The correction appears below, in the same dark red text as used for this – and the preceding – paragraphs.  Scroll on down!…]

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Sometimes, it is a good thing to be wrong.

My recent post about Lt. (jg) Saul “Sonny” Chernoff, an F4U Corsair fighter pilot in Navy fighter squadron VBF-85, who scored three aerial victories on May 4, 1945 and was killed in action almost a month later, concluded on this ambiguous note:  “I have no further specifics about Lt. (jg) Saul Chernoff.  Perhaps he crashed at sea, just off the Ibusuki Seaplane Base; perhaps somewhere on the Satsuma Peninsula.  To the best of my knowledge, he was never a POW.  Even if he had been captured, his chance of survival to the war’s end, even during these closing three months of the Pacific War, in the context of the fate of Allied fliers captured by the Japanese, would only have been about 1 in 2.” 

I also noted – in lieu of other information – that, “Saul Chernoff’s name appears on page 288 of American Jews in World War II, where he is listed as having been awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, Air Medal, and Purple Heart.  His name also appears in both volumes of the 1946 publication Combat Connected Naval Casualties of World War II.  In Volume I, his name appears on page 99 as being “Missing in Action or During Operational War Missions”, while in Volume II, his name can be found on page 12, where he is listed as “Reported in California as Missing”.”

And there, I supposed, things would remain: That nothing more would be known about Lt. (jg) Chernoff besides the appearance of his name in military records from a war – the Second World War – that ended nearly eighty years ago. 

After all, time has a way of carrying – sometimes gently; sometimes abruptly; always irrevocably – recollections of the past to horizons beyond the grasp and memory of man.  So as for Saul Chernoff the person, nothing more, I thought, would ever be known.

And so, if sometimes it is good to be wrong, this is one such time…

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Not long after the post appeared, I was more than startled to be contacted by Susan, Donna, Sandra, Nancy, and Larry, Saul Chernoff’s nieces and nephew.  Though fate never gave them the opportunity to know their uncle personally, awareness of his “place” in their family had never been lost, and continues to this day.  Perhaps, the memory of man (and, the memory of a man) can more strongly defy the grasp of time than we might imagine.  

As a result of Susan and Donna’s efforts, and especially Susan’s fine job of image scanning, this follow-up post includes images of the Chernoff family, and, Saul himself.  Also included are images of photos and documents from other sources.  Through these, it’s possible to have a glimpse of Lt. (jg) Chernoff as a pilot, and simply, a person.

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First, from the Jackson – McKane Family Tree at Ancestry.com, this image shows Saul’s father Morris in a Denver Park in 1917.  My knowledge of military aircraft surpassing my familiarity with automobiles by several order of magnitude (!), I don’t know what kind of car this is.  But, well, it is a car.  (That’s a start!)

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The next ten images of Saul and his family are Susan’s ultra-high-resolution scans of family photographs.

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Morris Chernoff and his children in 1926:  Three-year-old Saul and his five-year-old sister Lillian stand on the running board of their father’s car, somewhere in Los Angeles.  

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Saul and Lillian, with their parents Sima and Morris, some-unknown-where in the Los Angeles area, during the late 1930s.     

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The next three images – the first, below, of Saul and Lillian, and the latter two only of Saul – were taken on the same day and same location.  The obvious clues:  Saul wearing the same striped shirt in each picture, each picture sharing the same background with an advertising banner for a realtor, and, the overall lighting conditions.  The words “Holly Vista” on the sign pertain to a neighborhood in San Bernardino, east of Los Angeles.

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Donna’s update: “You guessed that the pictures of Saul with his sister/our mom and with his model plane were taken in San Bernadino, based on the sign that said Holly Vista.  But if you look in the background of the pic of Saul and our mom, you’ll see a sign for Schwab’s Pharmacy.  Their house was located across the street from Schwab’s on Sunset Blvd. in Hollywood, on the edge of the Sunset Strip.  It’s a pretty iconic place; read about it here: A Look Back: L.A.’s Schwab’s Pharmacy Was More Than A Drugstore.”  

Well, that was interesting!  As a sometime movie-buff, I’m certain that I heard in passing “of” Schwab’s Pharmacy over the years, but I had little knowledge of its historical and cultural significance.  And so, even just a brief perusal of the Internet revealed an abundance of information and photos of Schwab’s, let alone the personalities connected to it.  Though this fascinating topic lies far beyond the scope of this blog, here are three representative images of Schwab’s, and, its present (former, really) location on Sunset Boulevard.  

A high-resolution image of Schwab’s storefront, taken some time before 1949. 

Schwab’s in the early 1950s, uploaded to Pinterest by Betsy Thompson.  This image appears to be a frame from an 8mm or 16mm movie, or, a 35mm Kodachrome slide.  To the right of Schwab’s is Googie’s Coffee Shop, designed in 1949.

Schwab’s (on the right) and adjacent businesses, in the 1930s. 

According to Wikipedia, “Schwab’s was closed in October of 1983.  On October 6, 1988, the building was demolished to make way for a shopping complex and multiplex theater.”  A May, 2022 Oogle Street view of Schwab’s former location appears below.

From the YouTube channel of NASS Video Restoration, in the video “California 1952, Sunset Blvd: Hollywood to Sunset Strip in color [60fps,Remastered] w/added sound”, Schwab’s and Coogie’s are visible at the right center from 8:27 to 8:35.   

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And so, back Saul’s story…

“Builds Models”

It seems that the event prompting the three above photos was Saul’s proud display of a powered model airplane, of which he was the builder, as indicated in the class yearbook for the Hollywood High School class of 1940…

…which indicates the interest that eventually led him to become a fighter pilot.

As for Saul’s model, it’s interesting to note that at least in terms of the popular culture of the ’30s, the phrase “airplane model” typically denoted flying, powered model aircraft, constructed of balsa and other light-weight material.  This was a some two decades before that phrase connoted non-flying (very non-flying!) models constructed from kits comprised of injection-molded polystyrene pieces, and intended purely for static display.  We’re talking some years before the advent of Monogram, Revell, AMT, MPC, Jo-Han, Renwal, Pyro, Lindberg, Aurora, Hawk, and the many plastic kit manufacturers that have come and gone, as well as the few – like Tamiya – that have survived and grown, or – like Airfix – reemerged phoenix-like, over the past few decades.

Saul’s airplane, still under construction (note that only the upper side of the wing leading edges are “skinned”) appears to be powered by a one-cylinder engine, with a control mechanism or fuel tank in the center of the fuselage. 

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Since, sadly, any and all documents about Saul’s aviation training and military career no longer exist, nothing is known about the location and occasion of the following photo, which “speaks for itself”, or more aptly put, “shows for itself”:  Saul is seated in the rear of a biplane.  I don’t know if – in light of his interest in aviation – Saul attained a pilot’s license before WW II, or, his aviation training occurred solely in the Navy.  But, I think this photo suggests the latter, for it looks like he’s wearing attire and equipment associated with military aviation.

As for the type of aircraft this is, I have no idea.  I was unable to find any images of this aircraft in either United States Navy Aircraft since 1911, or Navy Air Colors, suggesting that it’s a civilian aircraft.  Key identifying features are the radial engine, all metal fuselage with cylindrical front section, and a sort of notch in the lower wing near where it joins the fuselage.  

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Location and time completely unknown, I guess that this image shows Saul’s pilot training class … at the inception of training?  In any event, Saul is fourth from right, in the second row…  

…and here he is in close-up.

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A step forward in time:  Again undated; again names unknown; again location unknown, Saul has progressed further in training.  On a sunny day, a Grumman F4F Wildcat serves as a backdrop for Saul (p r o b a b l y rear row, second from right) and seven other pilots.

While the clothing and equipment worn by the pilots is largely the same, note the square pouches attached to the Mae Wests (life vests) worn by Saul, and the pilots to his right and left.  These are Life Jacket Dye Marker packets, which were used (still used today) by aviators or naval personnel lost at sea, to assist searchers and observers in rescue ships and aircraft to more easily pinpoint their location from a distance.  When opened, a Dye Marker packet releases a fluorescent bye that imparts a brilliant green color to water adjacent to the release point – in marked contrast to the shades of blue and gray typically associated with the sea – thus facilitating spotting a person’s location from either distance or altitude.  Used by flying personnel in both the Army Air Force and Navy, and the air arms of other Allied nations, there were variations in the design and markings of the packets (I guess the operating instructions were very simple, anyway), but the general appearance was consistent through the war.

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One version of the below image, of the pilots and enlisted men of VF-85 as seen in December of 1944, appears in my first post about Lt. JG Chernoff, where it’s taken (and improved a little via Photoshop) from the War History of VF-85 at Fold3.com.

However, this copy this of image – as seen in this post – is of greatly (really; vastly) higher resolution, contrast, and overall quality.  Susan scanned it at a resolution of 600 dpi.  (It’s big – 6 MB.)  The fact that a copy of this photo remained in the possession of Saul’s family suggests that other individuals in the picture received their own copy.  

Saul is tenth from left in the second row from the front, directly to the left of the F4U’s lowermost propeller blade. 

The name of the men in the picture are listed below.  

Front Row (sitting)

Ens. Bean, Roy N.
Ens. Hatfield, Elvin H.
Ens. Siddall, Frank S.
Ens. Edwin, Norman L.
Ens. Kirkham, Charles N. (KIA June 2, 1945)
Ens. Noel, Richard L.
Lt. Cdr. Gilmour
Lt. Cdr. Ford, Warren W.
Lt. Cdr. Roberts
Lt. Tilton, Eugene B.
Ens. Lawhon, David W.
Ens. Dunn, John C.
Ens. Bloomfield, Robert A.
Ens. Solomon, Leonard E.
Ens. Egolf, James O.
Lt. Irgens, Donald L.
Lt. (jg) Lamphar
Ens. Huber, Joseph A.

Second Row

Lt. (jg) Blair, George M.
Lt. (jg) Robbins, Joe D.
Ens. Moos, Kennard “A.”
Lt. (jg) Edwards, (William H.?)
Ens. Moore, John H.
Ens. Meltebeke, Raymond L.
Lt. (jg) Callan, Allie W.
Lt. (jg) Nichols, James B.
Lt. Wollum, Donald G.
Ens. Chernoff, Saul
Ens. Shinn, William G.
Ens. Marr, William H. (KIA June 2, 1945)
Ens. Clark, John G.
Lt. (jg) Sovanski, Lawrence
Ens. McCraken, Billie R.
Ens. Fuog, Howard W.
Ens. Yirrell, Francis
Lt. Goodnow, Robert G.
Ens. Loeffler, John D.

Third Row

Lt. (jg) Webster, Bayard
Lt. Fuller, Roy A. (KIA June 2, 1945)
Ens. Kling, Nelson P.
Ens. Kennedy, Harold R. (KIA June 2, 1945)
Ens. Pierce, James W.
Lt. Vickery, Arthur E.
Ens. Bruening, Floyd W.
Lt. (jg) Black, James B.
Lt. (jg) Horne, Hugh R. or Joseph S.
Lt. (jg) Whitney, Robert C.
Lt. (jg) Horne, Hugh R. or Joseph S.
Ens. McPhee, Duncan C.
Ens. Harrington, Henry M.
Ens. Clarke, William “R.”
Ens. Meyers, Donald E.
Ens. Fitzgerald, Louis A.
Lt. (jg) Spring
Lt. (jg) DeMott, Richard W.
Ens. Sabin, Donald G.

Enlisted Men (on Wing)

Schmidt
Goessling
ART 1C Curry, Roland H.
AMM 2C Thompson, Claud W.
AMM 1C Stransky, Lloyd J.
AMM 2C Kusmer, Erwin L.
AEM 1C Lewis, Frank H.
AM 1C Callahan, William J., Jr.
ACMM Young, Kenneth D.
ACRM Wright, Wilbur T.
Y 1C Hager, Franklin T.
AMMP 1C Brackett, William A.
AMM 3C Keegan, Joseph J.
PR 2C Kinner, Wilbert K.
AOM 3C Tanner, Charles L.
AOM 1C Richardson, William L.
ACOM Klein, Irving

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As mentioned in the first post, Saul was married.  His wife, Georgette Dorothy Kamm, resided with her family at 139 Main Street, in Northport, Long Island, New York.

Searching on Ancestry.com yielded her graduation portrait from the yearbook of the 1943 class of Northport High School…   

…while here’s a low-resolution close-up of her portrait.  

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Here’s the couple’s wedding announcement, from the Northport Journal of October 6, 1944, found via FultonHistory.

CHERNOFF-KAMM

Mr. and Mrs. Joseph M. Kamm of 628 East Main Street announce the marriage of their daughter Georgette Dorothy to Mr. Paul [sic] Chernoff, Ensign, U.S.N. Air Corps on last Sunday, October 1.

Ensign and Mrs. Chernoff will make their home in Hollywood, Calif.

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With Georgette wearing her wedding ring, the married couple pose for a photo, probably in the Los Angeles area.

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On March 8, 1946, about nine months after Lt. (jg) Chernoff was killed, the Northport Journal carried the following news item, also via FultonHistory:

The Air Medal and the Distinguished Flying Cross for action over Okinawa and Iwo Jima have been awarded Lieut. (jg) Saul Chernoff, USNR, who has been missing in action since June 21, 1945.  His wife is the former Miss Georgette Kamm, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Kamm of Main Street, who is at present [still, in 1946] with her husband’s people in California.

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The image below, at at SAS – Special Aircraft Service (digital aviation art) posted by “Lagarto” on May 19, 2019 – shows the Ibusuki Seaplane Base under attack by United States Navy aircraft on April 16, 1945.  If you examine the picture very closely, you’ll see an SB2C Helldiver dive-bomber banking to the right, in the upper center of the image.  Five aircraft, possibly Kawashini H8K “Emily” (二式大型飛行艇) Type 2 Large-Size Flying Boats, are visible on the concrete apron at the lower right center of the picture.  

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Of the six VF-85 / VBF-85 pilots killed in action on June 2, 1945 during the squadron’s air battle with N1K2-J fighters of Japan’s 343rd Naval Air Group, Saul was the only pilot whose body was recovered, and who thus has a place of burial.  This document, from the Casualty File for VF-85 / VBF-85, covers his recovery and identification, his Corsair evidently having crashed somewhere near the Ibusuki Seaplane Base, perhaps in the vicinity of Uomidake Peak.  Though the document indicates that searchers found the wreck of his Corsair, unfortunately, the specific location is not given.     

The page is transcribed below. 

November 8, 1948

Report of Investigation Division, Legal Section, GHQ, SCAP.

Remains of Lt. CHERNOFF recovered and identified.
Investigations, conducted to date, indicate no atrocity involved in the death of the pilot concerned in this case.  Case closed.

Chernoff – Saul – Presumed Dead to Determined Dead

Reference: Reports of William R. Gill, dated 22 April 1948 and 21 February 1948.

DETAILS:

At Tokyo:

Previous Investigation Division Reports indicate that according to information received from Graves Registration, Unknown X-779 has been identified and confirmed by the Office of the QM General as Lt. Saul CHERNOFF, USNR.

Lt. CHERNOFF’s remains were recovered at Kagoshima-ken, Kumotsuki-gun, Neshime-machi, by Graves Registration team and was [sic] reinterred at the U.S. Cemetery in Yokohama.  The remains have been listed as Unknown X-779 prior to identification, and have been investigated under Graves Registration Case History No. 610.

Graves Registration report further stated that the Engine Number of the recovered plane coincides with the plane, piloted by Lt. CHERNOFF and dental charts also compared favorably.  Investigations conducted by this office indicate that there has been no indication of an atrocity committed in the death of Lt. Saul CHERNOFF.

Copies of all reports written on cases concerning the Kyushu Area are directed to Inv. Div. File 1505 which is a central reference for the Kyushu Area plane crashes.

On another document…

February 17, 1948 Supplementary Determination of Death

The Japanese records and the records of this Bureau agree as to date and place of crash.  The search and recovery team investigating the crash cite noted the following numbers on the engine plate: “Pratt and Whitney Aircraft, Contract No. A/S/2344, Mfg. No. P-22541”.  This corresponds with the engine number of the plane in which Lieutenant CHERNOFF was flying. 

The Casualty File for VF-85 / VBF-85 is one of many such sets of documents covering US Navy WW II aircraft and aircrew losses.  It’s in NARA Records Group 24, specifically records of the “Casualty Branch / Casualty Assistance Branch of the Personal Affairs Division”. 

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Saul was buried at Hollywood Forever Cemetery on June 16, 1949. 

His mother Sima died just under one year later, and was buried alongside him.  They share the same matzeva, as seen in this image by FindAGrave contributor dml

In terms of military aviation history, with a natural focus on the design of warplanes, aerial combat strategies, aerial aces, victories and losses, camouflage and markings, military aviation heraldry, “nose art”, flying equipment, the sub-types and serial numbers of aircraft, and yet more (well, the subject is interesting) it seems that something quite fundamental is easily be lost: The fact that behind all these facets of tactics and technology is the impact of war, even upon the side of the victors.  The more one delves into the “human” side of conflict, this becomes all the more apparent. 

And so…  

The timing between Saul’s death in 1945, his 1949 burial, and his mother’s passing only one year further, was more than a mere coincidence. 

Saul’s sister Lillian related to her children that Sima’s passing was literally, “…of a ‘broken heart’, so in some ways she was another casualty of the war.” 

Lillian’s specifically recalled her mother’s reaction to the news of Saul’s Missing in Action status: “After my mother got news that my brother got shot down, she took off one day and she didn’t tell us where she was going, and what she did was on her own she went to San Diego to go on the boat that my brother had been on to see where he had slept.  So she was very very traumatized by my brother being killed.  And she really didn’t have any desire to go on.”

Saul’s father Morris died at the age of eighty, in 1970.  

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Born on May 24, 1925, Georgette remained in California.  In time she remarried.  She died in Alameda on September 2, 1994.

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In many, many (did I say many?) of my prior posts, I’ve made reference to or commented about the 1947 publication of the dual-books American Jews in World War II, one volume of which is a state by state compilation of the names of American Jewish servicemen who were killed or wounded in action, and / or received military awards.  These entries are based on information recorded on color-coded index cards by the National Jewish Welfare Board, which list a serviceman’s name, rank, branch of service, (sometimes) serial number, (some other times) theater of service, awards, next of kin, and residential or correspondence address.  Paralleling the example given for Major Milton Joel, here are the two cards filed for Lt. (jg) Chernoff:  One pertaining to his “Death in Action” status, and the other denoting his receipt of the Air Medal and Purple Heart.  

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This is the page (page 288) from Volume II of American Jews in World War II which lists Saul’s name: At bottom right, under “New York”, rather than “California”, reflective of his wife’s original residential address.

Here Are Some Books

Doll, Thomas E., Jackson, Berkley R., and Riley, William A., Navy Air Colors – United States Navy, Marine Corps, and Coast Guard Aircraft Camouflage and Markings – Vol. 1 1911-1945, Squadron/Signal Publications, Carrollton, Tx., 1983

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

Green, William, Famous Fighters of the Second World War, Hanover House, N.Y., 1958 (Kawashini Shiden pp. 111-116)

Green, William, Famous Fighters of the Second World War – Volume II, Doubleday and Company, Inc., Garden City, N.Y., 1969 (Chance Vought Corsair pp. 79-92)

Sakaida, Henry, and Takaki, Koji, Genda’s Blade – Japan’s Squadron of Aces 343 Kokutai, Classic Publications, Surrey, England, 2003

Swanborough, Gordon, and Bowers, Peter M., United States Navy Aircraft since 1911, Funk & Wagnalls, New York, N.Y., 1968

Young, Edward M. (Illustrated by Gareth Hector), F4U Corsair vs. Ki-84 “Frank” Pacific Theater 1945, Osprey Publishing, Oxford, England, 2016 

Specific Reference Works – No Author Listed

Combat Connected Naval Casualties, World War II, by States, United States Navy Department Office of Information, U.S. Government Printing Office, Washington, D.C., 1946

A Bunch of Websites

History of Bomber Fighting Squadron Eighty-Five, at VBF85.com

Fighting Squadron Eighty-Five – May 15, 1944 – September 25, 1945, at VBF85.com

VBF-85 Cruise Book, at VBF85.com

Morris Chernoff’s Scrapbook, 1916-1938, at University of Denver Archives

Holly Vista, at Neighborhoods.com 

Aircraft Action Reports, Reports of Air Operations, War Diaries, and War Histories – at Fold3.com

VF-85 / VBF-85 Aircraft Action Report (Fighter Sweep over Airfields at Kagoshima, Chiran, and Izumi, Kyushu, Japan) – 2 June 1945

USS Shangri-La Report of Air Operations against Kyushu, Japan

USS Shangri-La War Diary – Report of Air Operations Against Kyushu

USS Shangri-La War History

War History, VP 13, 12 7 41–10 1 44 & War History, VPB 13, 10 1 44–12 21 45