American pilots of No 71 'Eagle' Squadron rush to their Hawker Hurricanes at Kirton-in-Lindsey, 17 March 1941. L to R: 'Pete' Provenzano, 'Red' Tobin, Sam Mauriello and Bill Nichols (IWM)

Immigrants of War is a collection of memories of the thousands of Americans who volunteered for service with the Royal Air Force and Royal Canadian Air Force during the Second World War. The book is an ongoing project, now in its 10th edition. I welcome photo scans and information which would assist in documenting this important story.

Please contact me at the following address:

Saturday, April 20, 2019

Victor Nicholas Cabas

January 15, 1920 - August 26, 2018 One of the Last WWII Ace Fighter Pilots Passes Away Brigadier General Victor N. Cabas died Sunday, August 26, 2018. Born in New Castle, Pennsylvania, he was 98 years old and died from natural causes. General Cabas devoted his entire career of 32 years to the preservation of our freedom. He was highly decorated for his service to his country including 11 Distinguished Flying Crosses, Air Medal with 21 oak leaf clusters, the Distinguished Unit Citation, the Croix de Guerre avec Palme, Order of Leopold with palm and rosette, Croix de Guerre with cross, Belgian Fourragère, the Commendation Medal, King's Medallion and Battle of Britain Ribbon, U.S. Presidential Citation, and Canadian Battle Ribbon, maple leaf. He had 10 campaign stars for service in Europe, Africa and Korea. His battles include the Channel Dash, the Battle of Britain, the Dieppe Raid, North Africa, the Battle of the Bulge, D-Day at Normandy, Korea and Vietnam. Victor Cabas enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force in March 1941 and served until 1942. While in the RCAF he had 51 flight missions over Europe and was said to have piloted Winston Churchill during the war. He joined the American Air Corps as a First Lieutenant after the U.S. entered World War II. He became one of the few American pilots to have flown a British Spitfire (his favorite of the 25 different planes he flew). Victor Cabas flew over 300 missions combined in WWII. He served with the 49th Fighter Squadron. He was an ace fighter pilot credited with downing five and a half German planes (including taking off from the airfield, engaging four German fighter planes, and shooting down one in sight of the base). He was downed by aerial and ground fire on two occasions. During the Korean War he became the Director of Operations for the 363rd Tactical Reconnaissance Group and served as Chief, Reconnaissance Operations, for the 67th Tactical Reconnaissance Wing. During the Vietnam era he was assigned Commander of the 363rd Tactical Reconnaissance Wing from 1965-1967, preparing pilots to meet the demands of Southeast Asia. He transferred in1967 to the 432nd Tactical Reconnaissance Wing in Southeast Asia. He was awarded his 3rd Distinguished Flying Cross at Udorn Air Force Base in Thailand and was decorated for the extraordinary achievement as an F-4 Phantom pilot during aerial flight over North Vietnam. Brigadier General Cabas had more than 3900 hours flight time by 1963 and more than 500 combat missions in all wars combined. He was said to have had as much aerial warfare as any man alive. He retired as a Brigadier General in December 1971.

Thursday, March 21, 2019

Claude Alexander Rowe Jr.

(Photo: Claude Rowe Jr. with RCAF pilot badge on his U.S. uniform) October 5, 2018 By Andrew Dyer - San Diego Tribune Claude Alexander Rowe Jr. who served in the armed forces of two allied nations during World War II, was laid to rest Friday at Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery in San Diego with full military honors, including a gun salute and a “missing man” formation flyby of WWII-era fighters. Rowe died on Sept. 20 at age 97. He was born in Detroit on July 7, 1921. He was a student at the Lawrence Institute of Technology during World War II and left college during his second year to serve his country as a pilot. Because Rowe was black, he was not eligible to fly in the Army Air Corps. Instead, he went north, to the Royal Canadian Air Force, where he earned his wings in 1944. In September 1945, Rowe came back to the U.S. and joined the Army, this time as part of the Tuskegee Airmen Experiment, a segregated unit. He earned his wings in June 1946 and flew bombers such as the WB-50 and B-29. Rowe stayed on as the Air Corps transitioned into the Air Force, eventually becoming a weather officer. He retired in 1966 as a captain.
(Photo: Claude Rowe Jr. wearing RCAF uniform) (Interview January 18, 2009 San Diego Union-Tribune) As a youngster, when people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, of course my answer was “I want to be a pilot!” With Selfridge Air National Guard Base near Detroit, where I lived, I used to watch the planes fly over on my way to school. I had my mind set from a very young age, and was not going to settle for less, despite the color of my skin. When I was in high school, I was offered the option of an aviation class or an auto mechanics class. I wanted to take aviation in order to begin my mission of becoming a pilot. Unfortunately, my teacher said they would never let a colored man be a military pilot, so I was directed to the auto mechanics class. Just a couple of years after I graduated, the war began. I knew it was not only a chance to fulfill my destiny, but also an opportunity to fight for my country. I left the Lawrence Institute of Technology and headed to the local military recruiting office to join the line of men waiting to sign up. When I got to the front, and they told me that my only choice would be to serve as a cook, I took my application and headed for the door. There was only one option I wanted, and that was to fly and fight for the right side. Having seen advertisements around Detroit for the Royal Canadian Air Force, and not knowing if and when colored pilots would ever be allowed in the United States, I headed north to Canada. Since I was the only black man in my class up there, I was naturally integrated with the white pilots. After I received my wings, I returned to the United States. Nathaniel Carr, a good friend of mine from high school, told me about the Tuskegee program. I leapt at the chance to be a part of such an unprecedented experience. That was what I had been waiting to hear my entire life, the chance to fly and fight for our country! I always thought that if I didn’t fly for my country, I wouldn’t earn the right to become a first-class citizen.
There were some tough times; being that it was a nearly colorless military at the time, we were segregated to all-colored bases. At certain other bases, we were not even allowed to go to the Officers Club, and white airmen were reluctant to salute colored officers. It was routine to be separated, and although the discrimination was uncomfortable, we were too determined to let that stop us. We were not just fighting for our country, we were fighting for our dreams, and we were willing to give our lives for it. The military was integrated in 1948, and that made things somewhat easier; it was another step toward being recognized for what we did rather than the color of our skins. We were given more opportunities to fly larger, more powerful planes. The bigger the plane, the more I liked it! I absolutely loved flying the B-29 Superfortress, a four-engine heavy bomber, in the Korean War. Being in the air gave you a sense of freedom you never felt on land. After serving for over 20 years, I retired from the military. Despite fighting in wars across the world, and a war for equality in my own country, I met my beautiful wife while stationed in England in November 1949. I have the experience to thank for a lot of wonderful things in my life (including eight children and 18 grandchildren!), and for paving the way for change in our country. We were not just fighting for our country. We were fighting for our dreams and we were willing to give our lives for it.
(Photo: Claude Rowe and fellow Course 92 pilot trainees at No. 2 Elementary Flying Training School, Fort William, Ontario, Canada December 1943.)
(Photo: February 22, 2013 - Tuskegee Airman Claude Rowe and Nelson Robinson, left, chat with each other after the dedication/unveiling of the Tuskegee Airman Highway sign with the Senate Concurrent Resolution 90 that designates a 3-mile section of Interstate 15 as the “Tuskegee Airmen Highway” to honor all the men of the 332nd Fighter Group and the 447th Bombardment Group, who faithfully served this country while fighting the enemy in Europe and segregation at home. - D. Boomer photo)

Clyde East

In Memory of Clyde Bennett East - Lt/Col. USAF. Ret. July 19, 1921 - July 30, 2014 Clyde East was born a sharecropper's son on Cole's Hill plantation, Sheva, Southside Virginia on July 19, 1921. As a farm boy growing up in Depression-era rural Virginia, young Clyde scraped together the money to go up in a biplane at a carnival. With that flight, his budding interest in aviation flamed into a passion. By the summer of 1941, at 19 years of age, Clyde was hitchhiking up to Canada to enlist in the Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF). His goal was to become a military pilot and help fight the war against Hitler. He achieved that goal and became an accomplished fighter and reconnaissance pilot, first with the RCAF (No. 414 Squadron), then with the US Army Air Corps beginning in January, 1944. Staged in England and flying Spitfire and Mustang recon/fighter planes, he flew in and led numerous missions across the English Channel. By war's end in 1945, Captain East had flown approx. 250 missions, and amassed 400 flight hours and 13 aerial victories. He was awarded the Silver Star, two Distinguished Flying Crosses and the Air Medal with 36 Oak Leaf Clusters. His career as a military pilot continued on in the Korean War (1950-1953) where he earned the rank of Major and was awarded three more Flying Crosses and six additional Air Medals. With this achievement Clyde held the record for the highest number of repeat combat medals, an honor which stood unchallenged in the Guinness World Records for 13 years. Clyde's accomplishments in the USAF continued through the 1950's and 60's, first as Tactical Reconnaissance Squadron Commander at Shaw AFB (1951-1954), then with a three-year stint as Training Advisor for the Italian Air Force (1954-1957).
(Photo: Clyde and his Canadian bride Margaret Ann Dilks) Returning to the States with his family, which now included wife Margaret and 6 children, Clyde attended USAF War College at Maxwell AFB, Montgomery, AL then on to TacRecon Squadron Commander at Shaw AFB, Sumter, SC where he flew the McDonnell RF-101 Voodoo. He was subsequently promoted to Lieutenant Colonel in 1959, then served overseas another 3 years as a Squadron Commander at Laon AFB near Laon, France. Lt/Col East spent his last three years of active military service back at Shaw AFB as a Squadron Commander and Voodoo pilot. Notably, during the fall of 1962, he served as Detachment Commander in the Cuban Missile Crisis. Clyde flew numerous visual and photographic missions over Cuba and was later awarded the fourth cluster to his Distinguished Flying Cross. In 1964 he commanded a Voodoo unit deployed to South Vietnam in response to the Gulf of Tonkin incident. After a 25-year period of exemplary service spanning three major wars across the globe, Lt/Col Clyde East retired from Air Force life in February, 1965. Clyde's commitment to his country continued an additional 28 years as a military analyst for RAND Corporation in Santa Monica, CA. The family recalls these as good years, where they could finally put down roots in southern California and become a normal family in a regular community.
One of Clyde's greatest accomplishments was the 2013 completion and printing of his detailed autobiography, "The Way It Happened". “I’d watch other veterans come up to Dad and shake his hand with a look of awe in their eyes — like they were touching a piece of walking, talking history,” says Suzy Danner, one of Clyde’s three daughters. They were touching history. It was Clyde who Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower sent ahead in a P-51 Mustang to get reconnaissance photos of German troop concentrations at Normandy only hours before the D-Day invasion. Clyde shot down an enemy aircraft along the way. When Gen. George Patton’s army was making its dash across France, it was Clyde flying up ahead through heavy anti-aircraft fire to let Patton know what to expect — shooting down a dozen more enemy planes in the process.

Albert Louis Schlegel

By Brian Albrecht, The Plain Dealer CLEVELAND, Ohio March 27, 2017 -- For 72 years, the remains of Cleveland's World War II fighter ace Albert Schlegel were known only as X-73, buried in an anonymous grave in an American cemetery in Champigueul, France. Then, in 2016, an investigation finally revealed the tragic story of the airman who had been shot down while flying his P-51 Mustang on a mission in France, and was apparently captured by German troops and summarily executed with a bullet to the forehead. Schlegel, who wanted to fly and fight so badly that he joined the Royal Canadian Air Force shortly before America entered the war in 1941, will be buried with full military honors on March 30 at the Beaufort (South Carolina) National Cemetery. "Uncle Sonny" will be saluted at the memorial service and burial by his nephew, Perry Nuhn, 84, a former Clevelander now living in Beaufort County, South Carolina. Nuhn, the last surviving family member who knew Schlegel before and during the war, is a retired Air Force colonel who served as a bombardier/navigator during the Korean and Vietnam wars. He said his uncle was born in Cleveland but raised in Garfield Heights, and played baseball and football at John Adams High School. His hobbies included making model airplanes. Nuhn said Schlegel was put in charge of watching the kids whenever Nuhn's family visited. "With us, as kids, he was patient, did not complain about watching us and keeping us entertained," Nuhn said. "Both before he left for Canada and when he came home after flight training, he passed on all his toys and models, some clothes and other items to us, some of which I still have," he added. "He was someone it was easy to want to be with, and caring." After Schlegel graduated from high school, "like all kids at the time, he was interested in aviation, and wanted to go into the U.S. military air (program)," Nuhn said. At the time, however, aviation candidates had to have two years of college, and "there was no way he could go to college, he didn't have the money," Nuhn added. Schlegel then heard the Canadians were recruiting American pilots for the war, and he joined the Royal Canadian Air Force. One Canadian officer described Schlegel as a "good, clean-cut American lad. Will develop into good aircrew material. Pleasant and good appearance." Schlegel went to England to join 8,800 other Yanks fighting for the RAF in the Eagle Squadrons, but was injured while riding in a Jeep that hit a bomb crater on an airfield. He lost most of his teeth, and four pins had to be used to set his broken leg. (Those injuries would later help identify his remains.)
(Photo: Albert Schlegel in front of a Harvard trainer at Aylmer) Once healed, Schlegel, who was nicknamed "Smiley," tore up the skies in a variety of aircraft. He flew Hurricanes and Spitfires for the British. After becoming part of the U.S. Eighth Air Force's 335th Fighter Squadron in 1943, he also piloted P-47 Thunderbolts and P-51 Mustangs. He flew missions escorting bombers and attacking ground targets. Eventually he became an ace (five or more victories in the air), credited with 16 enemy planes (confirmed and probable, in the air and on the ground). Schlegel was able to make a short visit home in 1944. Nuhn recalled that the pilot spoke little about combat. "Hairy war stories were not in conversations with me or my brothers," he noted. "Mostly, funny instances about him and his fellow 4th Fighter group friends."
Nuhn said many veteran pilots were being re-assigned to duty in the U.S., but his uncle chose to return to combat. "He wanted to go back over and fly," he said. On Aug. 28, 1944, Captain Schlegel was a flight leader on a raid on a railroad yard near Sarrebourg, France. Three of the flight's 16 planes were shot down by enemy antiaircraft flak, including Schlegel, who radioed the formation, saying he'd been hit and "might have to bail out." Neither Schlegel nor his plane was found. The Germans did not report Schlegel as being captured, and the pilot was listed as missing in action. However, an investigation in 2015 turned up reports that on the day Schlegel was shot down, in the same area, villagers of Valmy, France, reported seeing an Allied airman brought to the train station by German troops, then hearing two gunshots. A body was later discovered near the train station, shot in the head, and the remains -- identified only as X-73 -- were transferred to the American cemetery in Champigueul. Investigators had the skeletal remains sent to a laboratory in Nebraska, where they were identified, and Nuhn was notified in 2016 that the family's longstanding mystery had been solved. Nuhn recalled that when his uncle was reported missing, then killed in action, "I do not believe my mother or grandmother ever got over his death. As for me, instant shock, deep loss and grief." Nuhn will speak at a memorial ceremony honoring his uncle on March 29 at the National Museum of the Mighty 8th Air Force,in Georgia. A flyover is planned by current members of Schlegel's old squadron, the 335th. He also will speak at the March 30 burial, where Schlegel's uniform and decorations will be displayed. Nuhn remembers Schlegel as both a fighter pilot and an uncle. Judging from Schlegel's letters home, "he was truly happy when flying," Nuhn said. "He got a 'rush' from real low-level flying. "I have known more than a few fighter pilots. Generally they tend toward more on the wild side as pilots go," he added. "I would not put my uncle in that category. But when it came to flying fighters, he loved it, and I suspect he was a determined 'fighter' as a fighter pilot." As an uncle, "he was always somebody we looked up to," Nuhn said. When he first got word that his uncle's remains had been found and identified, Nuhn said he was surprised and relieved. "You're talking about closure here," he said. "It's like reading a book, and now you're on the last chapter."
After a journey of more than 70 years, U.S. Army Air Force Capt. Albert L. Schlegel made it home Thursday morning to his final resting place. Schlegel, a World War II pilot, received a hero’s welcome home as hundreds gathered along the road in front of Beaufort National Cemetery to pay tribute to him. He was welcomed home by school children, veterans, current service members, families and many others who just wanted to say thanks one final time for his service to the country. “This completes the story,” Perry Nuhn, Schlegel’s nephew and last remaining relative said of the service. “Now I know what happened to him and it is good to have this closure. This is not a sad moment. This is a happy moment.”

Saturday, November 14, 2015

George William Brandt

(WWII pilot still waiting for medal. Record of daring landing lost in military's labyrinth By Carl Nolte Published May 31, 2004 SF Chronicle) When he closes his eyes, even now, more than 60 years later, George Brandt can see that bitter cold January day in 1944 when he flew his last combat mission of World War II. He was a hero that day, but his country seems to have forgotten what he did. Brandt had just turned 24, but he was an experienced bomber pilot, and a veteran of combat, proud of himself. He wore the Army Air Corps insignia on one collar, the gold bar of a second lieutenant on the other. Like all bomber pilots in that long ago war, he wore a necktie flying into combat. He was at the controls of a B-17 Flying Fortress coming in for a landing at his base at Foggia, Italy, after a raid on two big railroad yards in German- held northern Italy. Brandt would have to make a perfect landing, coming in slow and steady, just above stall speed, flaps down, and when he hit the runway, balance the 25- ton bomber on the single left wheel. Apply power to the right two engines, just a touch of left brake. Carefully, carefully. A lot was riding on his skill -- the airplane, the lives of the other nine crew members. Besides, it was his 50th combat mission. By the rules of the game at the time, it was his last: Do 50 missions, the Army Air Corps said, and you can go home to duty in the States. Your war is over. It is a scene out of a dozen war movies: the crippled plane coming in, the whole squadron out watching, their fingers crossed. Brandt did it perfectly; the plane balanced until he slowed it enough to put weight on the crippled right side. He made it. "He did a magnificent job," said Julius Horowitz, a retired businessman living in Florida, who talked about it the other day. Horowitz witnessed the landing and remembers it well. He was a bomber pilot himself, and he knew what it took. "It took exceptional skill," he said. "There is no doubt in my mind that he saved that plane." When Brandt cut the power and the plane stopped, the crew boiled out of the emergency hatches. Col. Fay Upthegrove, the group commander, watched the landing, and later told Brandt that it was "an outstanding piece of flying." The pilot of a bomber is supposed to be a first lieutenant, but because of a long story involving service bureaucracy, Brandt was only a second lieutenant, the lowest rank of officer, what they used to call "a lowly shavetail." Brandt and Horowitz remembered the colonel saying, "I want him promoted immediately. I want him awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross." Brandt didn't make first lieutenant until nearly two years later, after the war was over. And though the 99th Bomber Group recommended him for the DFC -- the citation noting his "professional competence, aerial skill and devotion to duty" -- Brandt was told the DFC was approved at higher headquarters. But it never came. The Army's copy of the citation was lost in the vast labyrinth of paper that wars produce. Brandt stayed in the Air Force (the successor to the Army Air Forces and its branch, the Army Air Corps) for 32 years, earned campaign ribbons and other medals -- the Bronze Star, the Air Medal with nine oak leaf clusters and the Republic of Vietnam Honor Medal -- but he never got that DFC. Brandt is 84 now, retired and living in Las Vegas. He has two artificial hips, but can still get into his blue uniform. His eyes are as clear and sharp as they ever were. He has five rows of ribbons on his uniform, the silver eagles of a full colonel, a pilot's wings. Everything but the DFC. It bothers him. "It is the only goal I never achieved," he said. Now his daughter, Kathy Reed, a San Francisco schoolteacher, is trying to get the medal for her father. She edited the old man's personal history, called "My Flight Through Life," which includes the story of her father's service in World War II. It's for family reading only, but her father's story, she said, "really needs to be told. He should receive the recognition he deserves." She's written Sen. Barbara Boxer, D-Calif., whose office has written letters of support to the Air Force, but the Air Force so far has refused to award the DFC. The Air Force said it has thoroughly reviewed the record and it can't find that Brandt was ever recommended for the DFC. The paperwork is missing, and if the paperwork is missing, there is no medal. It's a kind of Catch-22. There has always been a catch in Brandt's long military career. He was born in Southern California, was president of the class of 1938 at Laguna Beach High School, learned to fly at a program at Santa Ana Junior College. When war broke out in Europe, Brandt and his newly minted pilot friends longed to be in it. "I wanted to fly Spitfires with the RAF," he said. He ended up joining the Royal Canadian Air Force and got his wings. In the U.S. Army Air Corps, pilots, co-pilots and navigators were officers, but in the Canadian service, most pilots were sergeants -- "Flying Sergeants" they were called. By the spring of 1942, the United States was in the war, too, and American recruiters went to Canada to try to sign up U.S. citizens who had joined the Canadian service. Brandt said an American brigadier general promised him that he would get an officer's commission in the U.S. Army Air Corps if he switched. Brandt quit the RCAF and joined the U.S. Army. But he was still a sergeant. He flew as a sergeant, but when he landed, the brass would come around looking for the officer flying the plane. "I'm the pilot," he'd say. "Don't give me that crap, sergeant," the officer would say. Brandt and his flying sergeant pals ended up flying planes that towed targets, the lowliest job in the sky. The sergeants went to the unit commanders and pointed out that they had been promised commissions. But the commanders always remembered that old saw: "A verbal promise isn't worth the paper it's written on." Eventually, Brandt and his friends got a different rank -- flying officer (correction: flight officer) -- which he described as not quite a warrant officer rank, neither an officer nor an enlisted man. When he was sent to North Africa to fly combat missions, he ran into one of those catches -- he was an experienced pilot, but not an officer, and only officers could fly as combat pilots. Not only that, because Brandt had skipped a four-year college to get into the war, he couldn't qualify as an officer. Eventually, he got a battlefield promotion as a second lieutenant. There was a catch to that, too. Second lieutenants weren't supposed to be in command of planes where they were outranked by other officers in the crew. But Brandt had proved himself, and second lieutenant or not, he got his own plane. There were a lot of close calls. On one mission with Horowitz aboard a B- 17, the plane in front of them caught flak right in the bomb bay. It exploded in their faces. Everybody aboard died. "That plane was flying in my spot in the formation," Brandt said. "I'm still thinking about it." They flew without fighter escort, a tight formation, the bombers almost wing to wing. Sometimes the Germans would send up their best -- the ME 109 fighter planes. "They had yellow paint on their noses," Brandt remembers, "and when they came, we were scared, because they were good. They were good. "I survived where a lot of my buddies didn't," he said. The flyers were young -- at 24 Brandt was an old guy. "We thought we were indestructible," said Horowitz. It was a game of numbers -- 25 missions, 30, 40. He flew on bombing runs over Greece, northern Italy, sometimes over the Alps into Germany, and more than once to Weiner Neustadt, in Austria. "Oh yeah," he said, "We had some difficult missions."
By then he was the command pilot on a B-17 named "Queenie". On Jan. 29, 1944, he took the plane up for the 50th and last mission. The plane hit something on the runway as it was taking off -- there was a crash as if a bomb went off. But Brandt got it in the air. He figured they'd blown a tire. He could have dumped the fuel, dumped the bombs, turned back. He decided to go on with the mission, drop the bombs on the enemy and head back. "Can you imagine the burden on his mind on that mission?" said Horowitz. "He knew what he had to do. It must have worn on him." Brandt made the landing, lived to tell the story. Horowitz was asked if, after all these years, Brandt should still get the medal. "There is no question that he deserved the Distinguished Flying Cross," Horowitz said. "He did a hell of a lot more than other people who did get the DFC. There is no question. No question at all." Boxer's office sent new material submitted by Kathy Reed to support her father's story on to the Air Force in late May, but has received no answer yet. "These things take time," said David Sangretti, Boxer's press officer. For George Brandt, it's taken a lifetime. (Updates: May 6, 2005, after a 61-year delay, George was presented the Distinguished Flying Cross for heroism while participating in aerial flight. December 30, 2014, retired Col. George Brandt, U.S. Air Force (ret.), a lifelong airman, departed for his last flight. A career soldier born in Pasadena, Calif., George first enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force in February 1941, earning his wings as an RCAF Flying Sergeant. In 1942, he was repatriated to the U.S. Army Air Corps and received a battlefield commission in July 1943. George retired as a full colonel from the U.S. Air Force in 1973, after 32 years of honorable military service.)

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Eisenhower decorates U.S. Airmen - April 11, 1944

John Godfrey (ex RCAF) and Don Gentile (ex RAF) chat for the cameras. Gentile and Don Blakeslee (ex RCAF) are decorated by General Dwight D. Eisenhower.

No. 71 (Eagle) Squadron

No. 121 (Eagle) Squadron

Funeral of Pilot Officer 'Billy' Fiske - August 24, 1940

Americans Join The RCAF - August 1940

From my files: (C/2646) Bernard Foster initially served as a staff pilot at No. 4 Bombing and Gunnery School, Fingal, Ontario. He later served with No. 166 Squadron before transferring to the USAAF in 1944. (C/2492) Flying Officer David Francis Langmack was killed in a flying accident in Lysander 417, near Suffield, Alberta,September 22, 1941. 'Whitey' Dahl received a commission (C/5568) upon completion of a refresher course at No. 1 SFTS Camp Borden and was posted to No. 8 SFTS Moncton, New Brunswick. (C/2703) Edward Albert Moore served as a staff pilot at No. 1 Bombing and Gunnery School, Jarvis, Ontario. Note: Sterling Carl Campbell was a Canadian who had been working in Hollywood at the time of the news reel.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Monday, September 27, 2010

Joseph Solko Interview

Michael Rodnick Interview

Friday, September 24, 2010

Thursday, June 10, 2010