Joe wrote to Monty and Herb in New York:
I came to Montreal Friday morning to survey the war situation. … over the weekend I had a long interview with Commander Brock of Navy. There is practically no chance of getting in as officer altho I have my name in. Then I went to the air force and received applications which I will send in and might possibly be accepted. Finally I went to C.O.T.C. and signed up, being the last one to be accepted and only thru a little pull of my own. Drill has started already and going up to summer camp on June 13th for a week. … I am determined to get a military training without wasting further time.
Now that brings us to the war situation. … Here again is the situation as I see it.
1. We are all definitely menaced. Of that there can be no argument.
2. There can be no sudden ending of the war either way. If we lose Canada will still have to keep preparing for the next war. The allies can’t possibly win before 1942 at best. They need that much time to get the equipment necessary for a large scale offensive.
3. If you agree with the above two assertions then you will also agree that some steps have to be taken to organize our industrial and physical resources to meet and combat and defeat the menace. The fairest way of course would be conscription. That might possibly come. I will go further and say it will have to come. The seriousness of the situation will bring that. I can realize the necessity more than you since where I was working, a factory made up mostly of foreigners, you could not raise a volunteer on a bet.
4. Now here is where my position veers from the rest of you. … When I say I have nothing to lose by going to war I mean that when and if I get back, I still have the same jobs, the chances for training and the same opportunities waiting for me, unless of course something unforeseen occurred. If Gerald goes, he has to start looking for jobs all over again. Since he has had a hell of a time getting his present one, naturally nobody in his position would want to give it up for somebody else to take over. But nobody can take my job from me. I have something to come back to.
If point four is clear and accurate then I have dozens of reasons for going to war.
a. to protect the business if for no other reason. You will say it makes no difference which way the war goes, that business will go on as usual. I think you are mistaken. This is not like the last war. We are in for big changes regardless of what happens.
b. as a Jew I feel it my position to accept my share of the dirty work and take the same risks as our gentile friends. I don’t give a hoot what the unemployed are doing or what the other guys are doing. I think it is my particular duty to accept my responsibility and uphold our side which I am in complete agreement with.
c. I feel it is important to have a military training. These are times when every young fellow should be in a position to defend his country. The ones that are in the greatest danger are the civilians, not the army men. I think you will agree with me there.
… But don’t get the idea that I am trying to pick a soft touch or a safe place. There are no safe places in war and I do not give two hoots in hell whether I am blown sky high by a bullet or live to rot away at the rusty age of ninety. There are lots worse ways of dying than by a bullet and there are lots worse things go on in this world than a little war. I am honestly itching for some real action. I have seen enough of our sloppy civilian life to make me look for a change. (JJL 29 May 1940)
Canada had been ill prepared to go to war in 1939. There had been little public support for maintaining the armed forces after the armistice in 1918, and during the Depression even less money for doing so. Successive governments believed that the military needed to consist of no more than a small core of professionals who could train the militia, and a small air and naval force. In September 1938, when Britain’s Prime Minister Chamberlain thought he had secured peace with Hitler at Munich, the Royal Canadian Air Force consisted of less than one thousand men equipped with a few 1920s-era biplanes. Its role was envisaged largely as coastal defence, with no plans for overseas engagement. It could train fifty pilots a year at best, few of whom could expect to be taken on by the RCAF upon graduation. Those keen on being military pilots went to England and joined the Royal Air Force.
Prime Minister Mackenzie King’s defence policy in the late 1930s looked like isolationism, and in hindsight, appeasement. There was no joint planning with Britain, no military mobilization, and no commitments about future action. If war came, King preferred to go in late, limit military action to the defence of Canada and its sea lanes, minimize casualties, and above all avoid conscription, which a generation before had been so divisive of national unity.
Two weeks after the war started, twenty RCAF recruiting centres were opened across the country. They had no trouble attracting young men looking for glamour and adventure. The freedom to fly like a bird above the banalities of daily life, along with the aviator’s prestige and charisma, held wide appeal during the Depression years. Mindful of the stories from the previous war and of the maimed who returned, many young men thought it better to fight in the air than on the ground, and better to die in an airplane than in the trenches. The air force also seemed to place more emphasis on skills than drills. And if one survived the war, a career in civil aviation might be on offer. Without a training system in place, however, most of the willing but thoroughly inexperienced applicants were simply given an interview and a medical exam, and told to get on with their civilian lives until further notice. Recruiting was temporarily suspended in November, except for civilian aviators who were needed as instructors.
In December 1939, Britain concluded an agreement with Canada, Australia, and New Zealand to establish the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan (BCATP).1 Under this plan, Commonwealth aircrew would be trained in Canada, and then proceed to Britain to serve with the Royal Air Force. The plan, although directed by the RAF, would be operated by the RCAF and largely paid for by Canada. The BCATP met Prime Minister King’s political objectives perfectly: Canada could contribute to the war effort on her own territory, and the program would promote the domestic aircraft and armaments industry and generate much-needed employment. For Britain, Canada provided uncrowded air and ground space, better flying weather, and immunity from enemy air attack. Under these conditions, it was expected that far greater numbers of aircrew could be trained faster than would be possible in England.
Like Canada’s other armed services, the Royal Canadian Air Force looked to Britain for technology, professionalism, and direction, not to mention the training syllabus. Canada was quite unprepared to train large numbers of men, let alone actually engage in the battles that were to come. Participating in the European war, and manning the fighter and bomber aircraft that would become critical to it, would require instructors, schools, aircraft, and airfields far beyond what Canada had in place. Pre-war civil aviation had consisted mostly of bush flying in the North, hobby flying in local clubs, and a fledgling national airmail service. Thousands of Canadians had flown for the Empire during the Great War, but few had the opportunity or the means to sustain those skills after they came home. During the hard times of the 1930s, Canada had done little to establish a network of aerodromes with paved runways, navigation aids, and radio communication that would provide a national infrastructure for night and instrument flying.
Nonetheless, the BCATP was ready to open its doors on schedule, in mid-April 1940, with the objective of turning out fifteen hundred aircrew every four weeks by 1942 – more men every day than the RCAF had trained each year during the Depression. The air force started calling up the backlog of applicants in the spring of 1940, none too soon in view of the events in Europe. The Air Training Program was a monumental achievement. It became the largest national project in Canada since the transcontinental railways had been completed decades before. Sixty-four flying schools and thirty-two air observer, wireless, and bombing and gunnery schools were established, most of them in the first two years of the war. Each school required an aerodrome and accommodation for hundre
ds of pupils, staff, and ground crew. The total cost was in the order of $2 billion.
When France fell, so did Mackenzie King’s limited war effort strategy. Other than Britain itself, Canada was now the largest unoccupied nation at war with Germany. The National Resources Mobilization Act of June 1940 provided for universal conscription for the defence of Canada, but there remained no conscription for overseas service. That was for volunteers.
For those volunteering in the early summer of 1940, the choice of service was not difficult. It was the air force that was actively recruiting, and that now had a training program in place. The navy had not yet begun its expansion. Allied armies overseas were in retreat or defeat. Only air power could carry the fight to German territory, so joining the air force was the quickest way to get into action.
Although many young men were enthusiastic to join, not all would qualify. But who did the air force really want? In the Great War, suitability for military aviation was assessed on the basis of medical and physical characteristics on the one hand, and character on the other. Character was judged largely on the basis of proper personal background, preferably of British extraction. The applicant should be clear-headed, keen, and daring, with such sporting interests as riding, hockey, and motoring. In short, as pilots were normally commissioned, if you were going to be a pilot, you should also have the qualities of an officer and a gentleman. The association of officer qualities of courage and leadership with race and breeding ran deep in the British military tradition, and inevitably these views were also found in Canada’s Anglo-Scots officer class.
In April 1940, 166 men had been recruited from across the country for aircrew. Two months later, recruiting quotas were sharply increased, which brought in eight times that number of aircrew in June, and many more ground crew. There was now an urgent requirement for large numbers of men who could be trained quickly, not only as pilots but as navigators and wireless operators, with bombing and gunnery skills as well. An old school tie and a daredevil attitude would no longer be good enough without some math and science. The needs of 1940 found earlier air force traditions wanting, in Canada as in Britain. New ideas about the skills, intelligence, and performance under stress required of airmen would contest with the old in the coming years of the war, as would the means of testing for and measuring these characteristics.
The regulations then in place specified that aircrew quotas were to be filled by single men aged eighteen to thirty-one, British subjects, of good education, with a sufficient level of physical fitness determined by an initial medical exam. As in Britain, candidates for a commission had to be of pure European descent. Pilots and air observers required a minimum of junior matriculation, presumed, in the absence of any other test, to be a sufficient indicator of aptitude. Officers in charge at recruiting centres were instructed to satisfy themselves that applicants were of good appearance and good character, with the capacity to absorb training. The interviewing officer, often a Great War veteran, was also required to provide his subjective rating of selected personal characteristics. Flying experience was not a requirement. Few Canadians had ever been in an airplane at that time, let alone piloted one.
After nine months, Joe knew what he wanted, and made sure he got it. He had never doubted that he would enlist. He had known that in his mind, if not in his heart, since September, but he watched and waited for the right opportunity, knowing he had that luxury so long as conscription was not imposed. Although the army had been first off the mark in recruiting, Joe wanted to be a sailor or an airman, not a soldier. The crisis on the Western Front was Joe’s trigger, and in May 1940, the air force became his target.
Why had his resolve hardened over the last three months? As a Canadian, Joe shared the motivations of so many others: that if Britain was in danger, then Canada would stand with her, and he must play his part. The self-ascribed British Imperial characteristics of manly virtue – resolution, decency, forthrightness, and physical courage – still had traction in English Montreal. Deciding to enlist was perhaps above all, and as it must have been for many young men, a test of his inner resolve, and the means to overcome his own doubts and fears.
But there was more for Joe than serving King and country, or fighting against Nazi Germany. At a time when Jewish loyalty and character were publicly maligned, military service offered the ultimate opportunity to vindicate one’s place as a citizen. Doubtless mindful of his conversation with the burly trainman in September en route to Preston, perhaps followed by the Silcox article and much else he seems to have learned about Jewish reputation along the way, he would personally show up all those who questioned Jewish resolve and fighting abilities.
In June 1940, Joe was responding to a personal call to honour and sacrifice, to apply not only his courage but also his skills to a higher purpose. He had indeed waited for the right opportunity, not only for advancement but to acquire the skills he would need. The air force would provide that opportunity. That it arrived at the same time as the crisis on the Western Front put any lingering doubts to rest.
Having resolved to apply for the air force, Joe obtained letters of reference from his father’s business associates, and from his high school principal, who recommended him as an above-average scholar, a strong athlete, and a leader. He went to the Montreal recruiting office on Monday, 3 June to fill in his attestation paper, stating his preference for training as a pilot. The next week he passed his medical board examination, and was declared fit for all air and ground duties. The interviewing officer rated him “above average” and characterized him as:
Very good player in all kinds of sports, strongly built, good character, good education. Speaks French quite fluently. Keen to join though he doesn’t need it to live. Knows what he wants. Good material and highly recommended.2
Joe had come a long way since 1936, when he had written “I don’t want to go to any war, neither do the people,” and asserted that “war is a racket and those that gain by it are pulling for it.”
Percy and May knew that Joe had to go. They kept their forebodings to themselves.
Our own little world at 635 Grosvenor is rapidly changing. Joe goes to military camp for a week tomorrow. He has his application registered with the Air Force and may be called at any time. (PJD 13 June 1940)
May and I went to St Bruno to see Joe at Military Camp. It is visitors day. Joe looks fine. Likes the life but is anxious to get in the air force. He does not like the infantry.
Six hundred (mostly young men) training to defend their country. Some of them will go overseas. Nice looking youngsters. Was sore at heart. (PJD 19 June 1940)
Joe’s enlistment was not the only change at 635 Grosvenor Ave. Percy’s wealthy English relatives had inquired whether the Jacobsons might provide a safe haven for their children, now that England itself was under threat of bombing or invasion. During the first days of July, boatloads of English children began arriving in Canada, among them teenagers Lillian and Yvette Kostoris of Manchester, accompanied by their aunt Rebecca Michaels and her daughter Denise of Liverpool. Percy was delighted to have them in the house, but also observed:
six hundred [children] strong to be guests until after the war of Canadians who have guaranteed they will not be charges on the country. Children of high degree, offsprings of the bluest blood of England were on the boat: coming here without a penny (England to protect the pound will not allow any export of capital). These youngsters must exist on the bounty of friends and strangers. (PJD 10 July 1940)
Lillian and Yvette, however, were not strangers. Their Aunt Rebecca was married to Percy’s favourite cousin Alfred. The Jacobson children had already met them during their family trip to England and Belgium in the summer of 1930. Liliane and Yvette would stay with the Jacobsons for the next two and a half years. Alfred was soon posted to the censor’s office in Bermuda, so Rebecca and Denise left Montreal in October to join him there.
Our only remaining son Joe has been called up for the Air Force and leaves Monday night destinati
on unknown. He is a free man no longer. He is just a cog in a huge war machine in rapid state of formation for defence and attack.
May worries me. She takes things apparently in her stride but there are always after effects. I know she will feel terribly about Joe going away Monday. She won’t show it to me. And I won’t show it to her … and there you are … we’ll both try and fool each other and neither will succeed. (PJD 29 June 1940)
Joe sworn in to the air force yesterday leaves tonight for Toronto to train. So this birthday of mine [54th] is of particular significance. With good luck Joe should become after this war one of Canada’s leaders. He has had and will continue to get the training that will provide him with the necessary qualifications. He has a good head. Lots of sense. Imagination and a sense of values. Also he has a saving grace of humour. While his brains may not be premier grade the intelligence he has coupled with these other qualifications mentioned, should take him a long way. But there is the question of luck … fate or if you like the will of God …
And the war … Chamberlain broadcasted yesterday that the Cabinet was unanimous in the resolve to fight for victory or extermination. No compromise is possible with the Germans. Britons realize that compromise or appeasement would merely mean that Britons would be slaves. God grant (again my prayer) that we will be victorious or have the courage to die rather than allow evil to prevail. (PJD 1 July 1940)
Letter from Joe today. Sad to say he will be sent to either Saskatoon or Vancouver. However, it is a good thing for the lad as he will see something of his country. However, we had hoped to see him home on leave every month until he sees active service. He writes in good spirits and says he looks forward to the adventure ahead of him. He says the other boys of the Flying corps are a nice bunch. I can quite understand it … the Flying services get the pick of the youth. I don’t think it is just a father’s partiality that sees in the boy certain exceptional qualities. Young as he is (and although he is a real outdoor fellow) he is a good deal of a philosopher. He has a grand sense of humour. I am sure that if Please God he is spared whole he will become one of the National leaders of this country. He has the stuff in him that will win him a following: personality, intelligence, good appearance, integrity.
Joey Jacobson's War Page 5