World War II has always been one of my top historical interests. It's hard for modern people to even understand what total war is. While I was born in 1959,and my father served after the war, I still read on it a great deal. A war of this magnitude is a grand-scale mix of the great and the small: the sweep of armies, the decisions of governments, and the actions and experiences of human beings. Having some background as a historian, I'm always interested in the little corners, the forgotten stories.
One book that came to my attention is this slender memoir by a pilot who didn't do anything famous but was important nonetheless. His tale memorably demonstrates the human-experience dimension of the war.
Brave and Funny Memories of WWII: by a P-38 Fighter Pilot
by Lyndon Shubert
This is a terrific memoir, funny and honest. It's not one of those polished works with lots of detail, but that's a strength for readers wanting an unvarnished insight into a WWII fighter pilot's mind.
Lyndon Shubert flew P-38s for the 15th Air Force in the Italian theater, often on extremely hazardous weather reconnaissance missions. In this days before satellites, these were critical: before risking hundreds of planes as well as expending precious bombs, bomber units needed to know what the weather on the route looked like. Carrying out these missions meant long solo flights over Axis territory.
Most pilots present themselves as God's gift to flying, but Shubert is the opposite. He admits upfront he was not the most talented of pilots. He barely got his wings. Indeed, he survived an attack by four German fighters on his first mission because his incompetent handling of the P-38 resulted in crazy maneuvers the enemy Me-109s gave up trying to match. But he kept flying these hazardous missions, charting weather that affected not only the lives of men in the bombers but also the innocent people on the ground. Since WWII high-level bombing was inaccurate by modern standards in the best of conditions, bombing through clouds meant anyone could be on the receiving end.
(Historian's side note: I reject the modern claim that such bombing was a war crime.That comes from people who don't understand that there was simply no other way to attack targets in the enemy's rear 70 years ago, and leaving Axis war factories, air bases, and synthetic oil plants in their home territories alone was out of the question.)
Shubert tells, in simple, unadorned, effective prose, the emotions of flying from ecstacy to terror. That he and his plane were considered expendable in the service of the mission adds a sort of background note of adrenalin.
Whether he was taking on half the rival 8th Air Force in a bar fight, going AWOL to chase a high school sweetheart who was assigned to his theater with the USO, or raiding a commissary he wasn't allowed to use, Shubert stayed one step ahead of the Germans and one step ahead of courts-martial to win the Distinguished Flying Cross and came home to a long life as an actor and a film technology inventor. This memoir is like nothing else you're likely to read from the war.
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