The next weekend the Pony Club convened in Quebec City, where Monty had got work as a reporter with the Chronicle-Telegraph, the city’s English-language daily. Joe and Gerald “set up headquarters at the Chateau Frontenac,” skiing by day and drinking and carousing by night. Herb, now living in New York, did not attend, despite entreaties and scoldings by letter, cable, and phone. Nor, Herb advised the Club, would he be able to get back to Canada for the final reunion the next weekend.
During the week, Joey immersed himself with family and friends and their goings-on: Edith’s still tentative relationship with her future husband, Janet’s growing up (she turned eighteen that week), and his mother’s intention to close her bookstore.
down to the Peel Tavern to meet Clark, Smith, Solomon, Bernie after their C.O.T.C. Felt great to have my own gang around – Boys starting to get military bug – but weakly. (JJD 5 March 1941)
Dropped in to school – saw all the old teachers, spoke to the class … family evening – the kind I enjoy – Janet & Edith were with me. Janet & I have become staunch pals – get a kick out of each other – she’s a great kid. (JJD 6 March 1941)
The Pony Club’s final weekend was supposed to have been spent with their girlfriends, topped by dinner and dancing Saturday evening at the Mount Royal Hotel’s swank Normandie Roof. Cecily arrived by train on Saturday morning having broken out with German measles, and she had to spend the weekend in hospital. Joe was disappointed, but rather than mope, he immediately changed the plan. Monty, who had returned to Montreal for the weekend, had been stood up by his date, and Joe got Gerald to break his. After a few quick drinks at Monty’s, the three musketeers proceeded to Westmount Station to catch the ski train for the Laurentians. In between runs, Joe called Cecily in hospital, and the three of them put in a thirty-minute collect call to Herb. On return to Montreal, Joe visited Cecily and then saw Monty off to Quebec City. The next day, Monday, was his final day at home. He took Cecily to lunch and then to the station. Their parting words, and what commitments they may have made to each other, are unrecorded.
Joe’s last leave at home prompted much reflection by Percy.
Friday, Joe came home for his last leave before leaving for overseas service. He is now Sergeant Observer. Naturally we think he is very handsome in his smart airman’s uniform of grey blue. Of course we are proud of him, awfully proud of him. What is most satisfying is the fact that he hasn’t changed … he is still the same boyish lad … kind and good … and his face still has the good sweet look about it. He is sound in his opinions. God bless the boy and may he be spared not only to us but to Canada because I am assured that he will be of value to his country in time of peace. He has really become Canada conscious and now has friends from every section of the land. He tells me that all these lads discuss what will happen after the war and are determined to take part in a better world, a more just world. More power to those lads, may they be more successful than we were. God forgive us.
(PJD 23 February 1941)
Family news. Last night (Wednesday) a gathering of the Silver clan at the house to see Sergeant Joe … (there was another Sergeant here too, Lionel Silver who is also an airman same class as Joe). All of them very fond of our lad and he has been very thoughtful and nice to them. Like my Uncle Joe, dead now more than thirty years, his namesake is fond of family he really warms up to them. When he came home loaded with presents for all of us he also reminded me of this Uncle of mine who was the biggest hearted man that ever came into my life. …
Today Joe took Janet to the Laurentians for an all day ski. They’re home now tanned tired but with a great day behind them. Tomorrow there will be explanations to be made at school as to why Janet should miss school for a day … Joe very lordly states that he will make it alright. He will personally call on Mr. Parker (his old schoolmaster and her present one) and explain the situation. Of course he rules the roost here while he is on leave. … can you blame his mother and me … Of course the little Englishers eat it all up … as for Joe’s ma … is she proud of him? Oh no … (PJD 27 February 1941)
Perhaps it is because Joe is home on leave that all the family felt so close and warm toward each other. In the living room this evening were the whole family. Quiet and comfortable. Fear of the future for the moment forgotten. That future is very uncertain for all of us … not only our family but millions of families throughout the world. This night we are happy. (PJD 3 March 1941)
I said Joe looked the same as ever he did. I was not altogether right. He has a certain setness of expression at times which I have noted on many other airmens’ faces. That expression makes for a peculiar uniformity. So much so that many of these boys look like Joe and pictures of airmen have a remarkable similarity. And there are times when he looks serious and thoughtful. He is better looking than he was before his training. Profile very good. … He and his two great friends have had a jolly time skiing and fooling around. We have had a regular round of family dinners and of course he is the white-haired boy with all the family. … We are never too serious in our talk with one another. Joe knows how I feel … now and again in our correspondence we have dug a little below the skin … but now it is too dangerous … too much is at stake. All we can do is to keep our fingers crossed until the war is over … perhaps now and then breathe a silent prayer with the forlorn hope that it may be answered and that there may be something in that sort of thing after all. Last night to Temple with Joe. Proud father and proud mother. Monday night he goes away to do his job … the job that the Government has spent twenty five thousand dollars so that he may do it properly. I know he will give a good account of himself. He has been a good son. We have had good times together. And he has had a good life so far. Happy childhood. Well cared for. No worries like I had when I was a boy. Camp in the summer. He has had pretty much everything that a boy and youth needs. A fine mother, a happy home life, opportunities for expressing himself freely. Sports which he loves. Two or three very close friends. Mind and body well balanced and primed for full living. God grant that he may live through this war and come back to give a good account of himself and make good return for his good fortune. In the meanwhile he has put all his affairs in order. His fraternity pin, gold football etc. he is leaving with his mother. It isn’t easy for her. But there is nothing to be done about it. Just take what comes in our stride. Millions of mothers and fathers are with us in the same boat … and things happen in time of peace. We will never have to face a greater tragedy than the loss of Peter before he had a chance to fulfill himself. (PJD 8 March 1941)
Party for Joe and his friends tonight. You should see the huge turkey, the potato salad, the chocolate cake, ice cream. … May has been busy this afternoon … she is never happier than when preparing a real dinner for her family. And she does it nicely without fuss. Expect Monty Berger, Gerald Smith and probably several other friends which he will bring back with him from the Laurentians.
This will be Joe’s last Sunday for God knows how long … when and if we all meet again … lots will have happened … it is well that we are not able to see into the future. …
Joe and nine of his friends and the champion skiier of Canada Dorothy Michaels1 landed for supper. The house overflowed with youth. Life at his zenith. Nice lot of young men. Left them for a while to hear Paul Muni broadcast in Ibsen’s play “Enemy of the People” a challenge to all men to fight for freedom of speech, freedom to fight against the tyranny of the mob. (PJD 9 March 1941)
Joe left last night for the Maritimes. He was not alone. About a thousand airmen were with him. Youth spilled over. Bonaventure station was alive with lusty young lives. A fine lot. The cream of our youth. Handsome boisterous, and happy. … Theirs is rendezvous with death. Joe is amongst them. … We had seven of the air boys (all Joe’s friends) for farewell dinner. Ah they were a nice bunch of lads. Clean cut, straight and alert. Two of them had several drinks and were a bit hilarious but they behaved themselves. We did not have to worry although the little Englishers and our o
wn girls were here.
May is a brick. Not a squeal out of her. When we were alone together last night I just felt her thinking. I knew what she was thinking. War is an accursed thing. No good comes out of it. It crucifies those who are left behind and kills or maims those who go to fight. But while men are as they are, while there is greed and corruption, while men disregard the ten commandments and are cruel to each other, there will always be wars. Hitler will go, Mussolini will go. But there will be other Hitlers, other Mussolinis to bring misery and death in the world of tomorrow unless a tidal wave, cleansing our diseased civilization, sweeps over us. Not a very good way of expressing myself.
But it was heartbreaking last night to see those fine chaps being sacrificed because of our blindness. (PJD 11 March 1941)
To this day Joey’s sister Janet recalls that night, the last time she saw him, in vivid detail. Joe’s memory of his departure for Halifax was less vivid, as he related to the Pony Club:
I vaguely remember Air Force, guests, visitors and friends streaming in and out the house to say goodbye whilst I vainly tried to pack. Mub’s pop came up and gave me a miniature scroll with the ten commandments – the exact name has slipped my tongue – but it was really swell of him to come up and say goodbye …
What with the gang around – a couple well lit, and the rest of the excitement going on there was no time to fool around saying goodbye – and we were off and gone before anyone had time to realize what it was all about.
… My cousin Art Silver gave me a 26 oz bottle of Johnny Dewar & Son and with my … drinking cronies we had a beautiful glow on by the time Levis appeared. In fact we had such a fine glow on (that is the 6 of us – each with a bottle) we were all running up and down the station platform yelling for Monty. I had such faith in old Mub that I wanted to stay and wait, but the conductor plus the gang tossed me on the train and old Joe was forced to take to the bottle until well nigh morn to drown his disappointment. (JJL 13 March 1941)
Joe had told Monty to meet him for a final farewell at the CN station in Levis, where his train was scheduled to stop for twenty-five minutes in the wee hours of Tuesday morning. After three hours of COTC drill that snowy night, Monty caught the ferry to Levis and trudged to the station. After a long wait, he discovered that the Ocean Limited was running late, and if he stayed he would miss the last ferry back across the St. Lawrence that night. So Monty, who had to show up for work the next morning, headed back to Quebec City, defeated in his efforts.
Nine
Debert
The hundred air observers who had begun their training together in Toronto the previous summer, now reunited, continued their revelry through the night. A few of them had got married during their embarkation leave. Some would never see their brides again. Such a step would have been inconceivable for Joe, disinclined as he was to commit himself, even if he and Cecily had had more time to get to know each other. It was just not done in the uptown Jewish community, and neither family would have approved.
The journey ended the next day at the temporary embarkation depot at Debert, a military camp sixty miles short of Halifax. Over eight hundred Air Training Program graduates were already barracked there waiting to board, with more coming in each day than going out. German U-boats posed a growing threat to overseas convoys, whose routes and schedules were tightly guarded secrets and could change at short notice.
Accommodation was in such short supply that Joe and six of his best friends1 were put up in a hotel in nearby Truro the first night, then bunked in two rooms across the hall from each other in the officers’ quarters. The Hell Hooters, now reunited, would have a lot of time on their hands and little to do. They avoided work, skipped drills, and drank beer at the base canteen. Some nights they went into Truro, where the Army Third Division was quartered, and Joe encountered some boys he had met in Preston. They spent their weekend passes partying and hard drinking in dubious establishments in Halifax. Joe had money and he was free with it.
Back to air force life, drinking, excitement, friends, complaining, free and easy happy go lucky times with a great gang of boys.
(JJD 15 March 1941)
Starting to go broke – had to wire home for $50 of my money – got a great letter from Pop back – warned against losing control during war time. However, he was in a thinking mood and felt like talking seriously & frankly – I obliged with the same type of letter in return and we both understand and appreciate one another. However, I feel he is rather banking a little too highly on my ability and future. I doubt that I could measure up to his expectations but I’ll sure try. (JJD 19 March 1941)
Grateful for what he saw as his father’s unshaken confidence in him, Joe explained his sudden financial jam. None of the boys had been paid recently, and they had little money to spend while waiting in Debert or, they feared, during their prospective debarkation leave in England.
we needed some funds to keep the corporation going here, with all the free time we have at our disposal. … Last week we were called out on draft without any warning, of course. I had visions of arriving overseas flat broke. Fortunately the draft was cancelled later in the evening. I decided to wire for money while I could and at least be sure of seeing England for five days. …
As for your concern over my “binges” I consider it only natural that any family should speculate on how far off the handle their sons are going. But I don’t think you have to worry too much on that score.
My life has so far been more or less a series of adventures taken more or less in stride – camp, college, Preston and now the Air Force. I know the ropes pretty well. My feet are planted pretty firmly on the ground. I have done pretty well what I have wanted to do, gone where I pleased and said what I thought. Outside of flying, my experiences now are neither more and probably less than what they were before I joined up. I always had the chance to play cards and did until I discovered I couldn’t win – so I quit when I started earning my own living. I always got keen enjoyment out of sports and activity of all sorts. I still do and am still the leader in the gang on that score – I could always get a kick out of a drink and still can. But I have never been really drunk and never expect to as I find I can hold whatever liquor I take extremely well and seldom require stimulants to keep me going. And finally I have always had a select display of female talent to choose from and probably was always much too choosy. I have not lost that choosy temperament despite the considerably lower class of females that often appear on the scene.
And so I hope that you will continue to rest assured that I am quite capable of taking events in stride. Also as you have seen by the friends I associate with both in and out of the service, that there is none of that “short life and a merry one” amongst us. We are all very much interested in the aftermath of the war, and our part and that of our families in that period. (JJL 21 March 1941)
Percy described this letter as:
one of the finest letters he has ever written to us … it made me feel that perhaps I have not lived altogether in vain if I have helped to make the lad what he is. … Oh yes I give fully seventy five percent credit to his mother … but I don’t think any father has ever come closer to his son than I have to Joey and the other way around. That was the gist of his letter. He’s a grand lad … I have said this so often … and as I think I said before a better man than his father which is as it should be. …
Someone said recently that the most important quality, perhaps the one important quality for the time being is courage … if you haven’t courage today the rest doesn’t add up to anything. (PJD 24 March 1941)
It was at Debert that Joe encountered the first graduates from the other countries sharing the Air Training Program. He wrote home:
There are now thousands of airmen all with wings from all parts of the Empire waiting to sail. During my training period I had a chance to bump into fellows from all parts of Canada. Now the scope is enlarging as we chum around with New Zealanders, Aussies, Blimeys and Canadians and Americans.2 The N
ew Zealanders get along best with us, and like us, they give the most trouble, kick up a terrific racket and have the officers tearing their hair out. The Aussies are not far behind although often inclined to be slightly harder to meet although just as rowdy as the rest. The blimeys are not far behind but they are more or less the conformists in this outfit, which is a good thing as somebody should show signs of behaving. But when you see the various flyers here – from small independent countries, all bright, smart, keen, independent and well trained you can feel assured that our end of the game will be well handled.
The calling up of a draft here is an exciting event. The flight sergeant stands in the middle of a big hangar, the whole works gather round and listen breathlessly for their names to be called out and for those of their friends. Since often only a few hundred are called up at a time, many of the old gang are left out for the time being so we all eagerly wait to see how many will be together. Naturally when we are called up there will be no phoning or telegrams allowed as the whole secret would be given away – even letters are held.
I spent another weekend in Halifax and despite its dirty squalidness and teeming multitudes, there is a real romance about the town. My pal and myself make a point of picking up as many seamen as possible and getting them to show us their ships and docks. As a result we have made friends with seamen from all parts of the world. Our newest pal is a young second mate on a merchant ship from the south sea islands who has been all over the world. Since we are also navigators we had a great time navigating ships and airplanes together. Both jobs are fundamentally the same – but ours requires much more rapid and accurate work. We also found time to sun ourselves on a quiet place at one end of the docks, watching the ships and sea gulls sail along – quite a life. So despite the lack of work, we have managed to get around, see a few new towns, meet a lot of people and learn something about this part of the country and its people. … (JJL 25 March 1941)
Joey Jacobson's War Page 11