Both of Joe’s final two targets that week had been blanketed in cloud and were identifiable only by flak concentrations, and thus the cameras they carried were rendered useless.
Percy had followed Joe’s work closely:
Read tonight that our RAF are stepping up their bombing operations over Germany. Read with mixed feelings that there have been heavy casualties amongst the civilian population. Berlin had its share of this long promised offensive. I know that it is only human to want to give the Germans back some of their own medicine, I know that the Germans have bombed London and other cities of England in a most coldblooded callous bestial way, I hate certain Germans but I cannot help feeling that there is something in what George Bernard Shaw recently said and that is that this sort of retaliation gets us nowhere; it just means that thousands of innocent civilians are punished for the crimes of a group of wicked men. … (PJD 3 September 1941)
Find myself telling people about Joe marking the bombs he drops over Germany with our names … large ones for Ma and myself and small ones for Janet and Edith. These bombs kill … am getting callous.
(PJD 17 September 1941)
Every letter home from Joe was a reassurance, but life on Grosvenor Avenue had been on a knife-edge during the fall campaign.
tough on us to have our only son (left [to] us) in constant danger: like being on the edge of a precipice, any moment we may be pushed over.
(PJD 30 August 1941)
Joe heard from by cable last night. Always a relief. He is right in the midst of the bombing of German towns and we feel quite powerless: prayers may be helpful to some folk but I cannot but remember that the parents of those boys whose names appear on the daily casualty lists also prayed that their loved ones should be saved. All we can do is to keep our fingers crossed which is perhaps much the same thing and no doubt just as useless. (PJD 3 September 1941)
106 Squadron flying crew, September 1941.
A detail showing Gerry Roberts’ crew. From left to right are Duncan Hodgkinson, Gerry Roberts, Joe, and Sid Harding. (Metheringham Airfield Visitor Centre)
Twenty-Two
A Brotherhood Lost
The Brest raid was followed by nearly two weeks of inactivity due to poor flying weather. Joe needed the break. Four operations over enemy territory in one week had exhausted him:
I am tired – no sleep for 26 hours – Dunn missing – also another crew – all just about finished – makes a fellow wonder how he can ever get thru 30 odd trips – keep plugging – trust to luck (JJD 11 September 1941)
But after sleeping all day, he awoke well rested, his mood improved.
The most unusual and perhaps amazing feature about the air force and particularly with regards operational sqdr is the easy manner in which firm, close, lasting friendships are made and kept and then suddenly lost – and you hardly bat an eye. (JJL 13 September 1941)
Joe was hard-pressed to maintain this phlegmatic front as bad news continued to follow. Later that day, as he recorded in his diary, the letter he had written to Mac Keswick at RAF Mildenhall was returned to him.1
looks as if my old air force pal has had it – Mac was a real man – the first of my real pals to get hooked. (JJD 13 September 1941)
Jack McIntyre & crew missing from last night’s trip to Hamburg.2 Another pal finished … feel very let down because of the loss of two fine pals & bunkmates & two first class men – went to Bardney with Dave & Roger & after 5 pints we managed to forget our little miseries which can get you down if you are not careful – (JJD 16 September 1941)
Losing Matkin and Dunn the week before had been a blow, losing Jack McIntyre with whom Joe had trained at Finningley was an even bigger one. Six weeks into Joe’s operational tour, 106 Squadron had lost ten crews or about a third of its men. The Canadian air observer contingent at 106 Squadron had peaked by mid-September. There had been eleven during the month of August, although not all at the same time and never more than five on any one operation. In the first two weeks of September, over a third of the crews dispatched to Huls, Berlin, and Rostock had been manned by Canadian observers. That short period was as close as Joe ever got to his imagined “regiment of chums.” Now most of them were gone. Miller and McIver were still there, but being officers, they messed in separate quarters. Joe’s immediate circle was now down to Roger Rousseau and Dave Davies. They seldom visited the pubs in Woodhall Spa, preferring to binge in nearby towns away from the watchful eyes of Mrs. Lettice and her neighbours. Fond as they were of her, he told his family that he didn’t think she knew “too much about our spare time activities even though she is all ears.”
He let his guard down in a letter to Janine, which he immediately regretted. He replied:
I received your thoroughly sound and chastising letter to-day and it made me feel about the same as it did five minutes after I put the letter in the box – to wit – I needed a good swift kick in the pants for allowing myself to go batty – remind me to bend over as soon as I see you and you can do the honours with gusto –
I sure got caught off guard that day. … make sure you rip that letter into minute pieces and deposit in the deepest rubbish bin you can find – I will leave at least four days of my leave for you to thoroughly castigate a guy that allowed a few minor details get the better of him for a day. … for once I offer no excuses – do no blustering – and accept the fact that for a short time I started to feel a wee bit sorry for myself – But God Blimey I soon beat that out of myself and my complexion now turns a crimson red as I think of “you” of all people being able to tell me to buck up – you live and learn I guess but boy oh boy it shakes me rigid when I think of me allowing myself to get like that after only getting about halfway thru the job – be it only for a little while.
(JJL 25 September 1941)
The squadron was stood down during the new moon period in late September, mainly on account of fog. Joe had time to himself, for the first time since he’d arrived at Coningsby.
Dave and Roger are both going on a week’s leave over the weekend so I will be left on my own to recover from the fast pace we have set of late – I have allowed myself to narrow down my scope too much and am not using my old bean in the way it should be – should get back into reading style again – and thinking form. (JJD 18 September 1941)
The sqdr has almost a complete change of personnel since my arrival – only a few of the old familiar faces left – I really miss my pals – we don’t make many new friends here and lose many old ones so we hang together at all times. (JJD 20 September 1941)
Flew near Manchester today – nearly hit the balloons at Crewe – I sure like flying & am really anxious to finish my 200 hrs and get cracking as a pilot – fighter pilot preferably. Lot of new crews in. They soon get experienced and become aces like the rest of us … you just naturally become an expert – or you have had it. (JJD 21 September 1941)
One thing about bombing the Germans. Everybody has a wholesome respect for the German defences – but nobody is scared of them – not a bit of it. Weather bad so a new friend Doug Carmichael and I took things easy – he remembered me from a football game – Lennoxville vs McGill Frosh. He is level headed – thinks little of the [English] as do most of the boys from the Dominion. (JJD 22 September 1941)
No ops – have the old homestead to myself – just listened to Haw Haw3 – says he Russia has lost (Kiev) we are getting hooked by the U.S. – should give up the ghost now – trying to split U.S. & Britain up now – but we will show him – Went to Horncastle with Doug again – ate at “The Bull” run by Canadians – what a difference – really friendly – (JJD 23 September 1941)
An important day – received a profound & inspirational letter from Pop in reply to a personal one of mine concerning future prospects & hopes of mine. Pop has sturdy faith & hope in me – perhaps too much & feels that public service is my niche – Pop is extremely sensitive & idealistic – as am I and he hopes to see me accomplish what he always wanted to. (JJD 24 September 1941)
Have been writing, thinking & receiving highly idealistic letters from Pop. Was brought down to earth with a thud by Donahue – a hard bitten American who has done everything from sailing the seas – teaching – being groomed for the priesthood etc. – a good way of getting the problems & existing conditions lined up and what to do about them.4
(JJD 26 September 1941)
Went to Lincoln with Doug, but left him [to] get tight with his pals & came home early. I didn’t like his pals & didn’t feel like ruining my hard won battle to get back in shape by downing hard liquor with them – finally getting some sense in my old bean & self control.
One day the past week might turn out to be the most important one of my life – I wrote Pop a while back – told him my uncertainty concerning civvy life & my hopes to do something worthwhile – it really inspired him – gave him higher hope for me than he ever had – I am now on the spot. I can’t fail him & I can’t fail my friends who have been killed so I might be driven to wonders yet – (JJD 27 September 1941)
The conversation between father and son had taken a deeper turn.
One point in particular has been fairly obvious to me since arriving in England – most people do a better job of facing “the battle of death” than they do the battle of life. Perhaps it is because the possibilities and issues are more easily seen in the former case. I think a good many people are more worried and afraid of the uncertainties of life than death. A good subject for a play – don’t you think? I think the hardest battle is the latter one.
Now I don’t want you to think for a moment … that young Joe is going to arrive home a worried wreck, whose nerves are all shot to pieces as a result of his experiences. They might be yet, mind, but at the present moment I am an extremely healthy, well fed, rested and cared for young fellow, who is having the time of his life. Despite the odd adventure which I still look forward to, I have managed to retain my customary composure and domestic ways. …
Monty should be over soon. I shall never welcome seeing anyone more than I shall him. I think he probably feels pretty much as we do Pop. …
One thing though for which I shall always be grateful is not only the understanding you [and mother] have shown “most” of the time but the quiet way you go about it. I don’t think any of us can put [up] with emotionalism or a show of feelings which is a mighty good thing.
(JJL 26 September 1941)
After a two-week hiatus in operational flying, Joe went on his twelfth sortie, this time to the railway yards at Frankfurt. It was another dispiriting effort.
Weather was so poor that we could not see the ground for the entire trip. We searched for the target for an hour. We had incendiaries and were supposed to light up the target. We finally stooged towards the heaviest searchlights and flak we could find. We made a beautiful glide despite numerous searchlights to obtain a good picture but the photo flash did not go off so we cannot be sure we were over Frankfurt.
On returning, Belgium seemed to be poorly blacked out. We were diverted to Linton near York because of poor weather at base. Since we were going on leave and wanted to get paid we came back anyway and managed to wangle permission to land.
The heavy clouds gave us a secure feeling, from searchlights and fighters but it was hard to be sure exactly where we were.
(JJOD 29 September 1941)
According to the squadron record book, none the eleven crews saw the target area, which was blanketed by fog, rain, and intense darkness, and they could make only a rough estimate of the position of the town. All dropped their bombs, but guided only by flak and searchlights, the raid “was not entirely a success.” Joe’s crew, like the others, observed no results.
The novelty and amazement of Joe’s first few bombing operations had by now worn off, giving way to both a more realistic view of their effectiveness and a more sober assessment of his own chances. In a pattern typical of what later research on flying stress would reveal, Joe’s sorties in September had made him fully aware of the magnitude of the task he had undertaken, his vulnerability in carrying it out, and of the dangers he would confront before completing it, but he remained resolute and confident. And he would put up a good front to everyone as the losses mounted. That too was part of flying stress. Repression did not come easily to him, although it was part of his family’s fabric, but it would keep him sane and capable now. Like his father, Joe channelled his anxieties into his writing.
Joe now assumed the mantle of duty borne by his lost pals, determined to do a good job on their behalf. He expected a lot from himself, and he continued to expect his Pony Club pals to show their mettle in wartime, not least as an example to the Jewish community back home. When Joe received word that Gerald Smith had joined the Air Force as a radio-locator, he commented:
I feel that my fellow poneyites have slipped away from me a bit by their conduct – as ground crew they have not & will not experience what I am in aircrew – neither the dangers nor the thrills – too bad but they are still my best pals. (JJD 5 September 1941)
Joe commented on this development to his family, once again raising his dim view of what he saw as risk-aversion among his old crowd.
I heard Gerald finally took the plunge – being an exacting young fellow of late, I would like to see a few more of our boys take the plunge – only I would like to see them plunge into a little more dangerous work – a radio-locator is about as safe over here as I would be at the North Pole. I am afraid too many of our family like that element when taking their belated decisions if you get what I mean – or am I getting too subtle or hard bitten – it is just that I feel we are being a little too cagey – picking out the soft spots per usual, let the other boys do the risky jobs. If I ever get back to Canada I will be very much inclined to give a thorough shaking to a number of people – but that’s another ambition that can wait for a while. (JJL 10 September 1941)
Joe returned to this theme two months later in a letter to the Pony Club:
I see the same old names keep appearing in most letters … are they intending to do anything or are they going to sit the whole affair out – needless to say neither my pals or myself are here for our health. I have seen a lot of good men bite the dust and shall have no compunction about sending lesser men to that fate in less honourable fashion when this is over if I am still around and the lads that hang around home get the least bit troublesome. … (JJL 9 November 1941)
Joe was by this time reconsidering, or perhaps only beginning to consider, what his religion actually meant to him beyond perfunctory attachment. He seems to have lost all interest in religious observance, and had found no occasion or inclination to attend synagogue or avail himself of chaplain services. If there were any other Jews in 106 Squadron’s flying crew, Joe made no mention of it. It has been said of the RAF at that time that few men wore their religious faith on their sleeves. Joe’s modest religious devotion seems to have been further diminished by his recent experiences. In response to one of his father’s letters, he wrote:
You mentioned our religious training and upbringing. I believe your views were logical sensible and correct. There is not much faith to be discovered in our religious institutions at the moment. I have so far been rather disappointed in both the leadership and the inspiration supplied by our religious institutions. The matter of faith which you have and I have is something that has been gained and held on to quite outside the sphere of formal religious teachings and worship. At least mine has. Mine has come from the little I have seen and learnt in the world so far, the people I have met, the things felt. (JJL 29 August 1941)
The day before the Jewish High Holidays began (21 September), Joe wrote home to say that he had not sent out any greetings “because I did not have the foggiest idea when the New Year was until it was too late.” His explanation seems ingenuous. Two days prior he had written home, saying that he had received an invitation to supper at the start of Rosh Hashanah, but implied he would not be accepting it because “events and incidents have taken on a peculiar
tone of late.” He did not elaborate directly, although he must certainly have meant the news of Keswick and McIntyre. Other than accepting an invitation to break the Yom Kippur fast with one of his father’s relatives while on leave in London, Joe had again given little thought to the holiest days of the Jewish calendar.
But Joe’s attitude to the High Holidays that year was grounded elsewhere than in his spiritual and religious reflections. Two months before, Joe had commented in his diary:
Judaism – how that word has degenerated thru our own actions – we are held in universal disrespect with a few exceptions – every group, gang or crowd I am in – unconsciously looks on the Jew with no admiration – little respect – why? – because we have forsaken our fighting traditions – our fighting history and have become a grabbing – materialistic selfish people – I intend trying to inject a little fight & self-sacrifice into my race. (JJD 19 July 1941)
It’s easy enough to guess what prompted this entry, which he seems not to have shared but kept to himself. Joe surely encountered casual contempt for “the Jew,” popping up like mushrooms after a rain in everyday conversation on air bases and pubs in Britain, as he had in Montreal, Preston, and Regina. Unexamined but often repeated, generally by people who had never met a Jew and perhaps even bore no malice toward any individual Jew, they had become habits of mind among many Britons. The sources and specifics varied: lingering ecclesiastical views; the long canon of English literature from Shakespeare and Marlowe to Eliot and Buchan; notions about race and biology still prevalent among sectors of the intelligentsia; and a widespread popular suspicion of foreigners and of anything that smacked of “un-British” appearance and behaviour. Jews had long been subjects of music hall jokes for most Britons, and objects of disdain among the upper classes. Nazism had gained very few dedicated converts in Britain, but in the climate of the times, it had raised public “Jew-consciousness” and nourished latent but widespread negative views about Jews. Joe would have heard such comments and jibes from people who might have had no idea that he was Jewish, or if they did, might not have attributed these characteristics to him personally.
Joey Jacobson's War Page 26