James Pfeiffer

Mansfield 1

EdenMansfield

Period 2

James Pfeiffer

Army

1942-1945

James Pfeiffer

During the Second World War, the United States military became needy for fighters and more personnel. When most men reached eighteen years of age, they were drafted to serve. Sixteen million other men (nearly ninety-eight percent of all those who went into the military), on the other hand, freely chose to volunteer for the sake of America and its prized democracy and freedoms. Among that ninety-eight percent was a group of eighteen men who wanted to volunteer, and among them, a young man of eighteen named James Pfeiffer.

Born in 1934, Pfeiffer was orphaned and then adopted by a Jewish family. From there he grew up and attended school in Salt Lake City, Utah. Before volunteering for the war, he was a history teacher; during his years of teaching, many students had a hard time pronouncing his name, but that wasn’t too big of an issue.

After volunteering for the Army in 1942, Pfeiffer did military training for two-and-a-half years. As with any new private, he started with basic training, which was mainly conditioning; he endured this for about a year-and-a-half in the air field before being sent overseas. He was now officially a part of the U.S. Army Air Corps.

During the war, Pfeiffer had the position of the bombardieron a B17 bomber—the biggest type of bomber in the world at that time. In the Officers’ room, Pfeiffer was the only corporal in the room; all other were officers. When sent on missions, he rode in the nose of the plane, with the navigator sitting behind him. The navigator was vital because missions were usually eight to nine hours (he’d had to go on a ten-hour one, once), and of course, there were no fuel stations in the sky; so it was the duty of the navigator to keep an eye on the fuel status (unfortunately, on one occasion, the navigator was lost because of flak; Pfeiffer and his comrades were lucky to be able to land safely).

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Otherwise, once the plane ran out of fuel and couldn’t get back to base, down the plane would go, and everyone aboard was as good as dead. In the air, Pfeiffer and his comrades often had to wait to shoot a green or red flare; green meaning “go” and red meaning “go home.” At times, there would be light flak, and as much of a threat as it was, it was a lesser concern for bomber pilots.

Not that being in the air was any safer even with plenty of fuel. The biggest danger that he and his comrades faced was flak: or anti-aircraft fire from enemy ships. In addition to the threat of enemy fire, the high-altitude conditions were miserable as well as deadly. When they reached twenty-eight thousand feet in the air and toward their target, everyone—including Pfeiffer—had to wear an oxygen mask for protection against anoxia, a major depletion of oxygen which can be dangerous because, even at a low three thousand feet, anoxia kills by causing one to “doze off” and thus the plane to go down and crash. Additionally, the higher the plane went, the colder it got, so Pfeiffer had to make sure he had enough clothing layers on before taking off on his mission.

Life on the land was no less miserable than life in the air. While stationed in Fogia, Italy, Pfeiffer and his comrades battled below-freezing temperatures and uncomfortable, crowded tents; six men per tent, so there was pretty much no space at all. Tragically, a lot of friends were lost during this mission. And then things went from bad to worse when winter came; there were several casualties during that winter, and five close buddies were lost on bombing missions.

Besides the freezing weather, living conditions gave more additions to the misery of life on land.Pfeiffer and his men also suffered from having no means of entertainment; helmets were used as wash basins; he had to walk two hundred yards to go to the bathroom (and when he made it, all he had was a hole in the ground); and the meals were not all that good either. A typical meal usually consisted of powdered milk, scraps of bread, and S.O.S (Also known as “S*** on Shingle”; excuse the French). A typical morning could be described as unpleasant as the living conditions themselves. At around one or two-o-clock in the morning, a commander or other officer would come by the tents,

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wake everybody up with his yelling, and then holler his briefing before sending a majority of the guys to go get the planes ready for missions.

When crossing the Alps, the temperatures got so cold that pilots lived in fearof the plane’s motors freezing. If that happened, the motors would die, and the plane and everyone aboard would be waiting for the inevitable. He faced German fighters in the Alps, and finally, in September of 1944, he and his comrades finally defeated the German air force.

When given time off (which was usually a maximum of ten days), Pfeiffer would be called “flak happy” because he wasn’t in the air and having to worry about that threat. “There was NO GLAMOUR in war!” Pfeiffer said. Who couldn’t agree more?

While overseas, during his time off, Pfeiffer and some friends toured a little bit of Italy, and there, they had to carry umbrellas in case it rained. There, he got to see the Sistine Chapel—the sight of some of Michelangelo’s most famous works. Also, while at the chapel, he received news that the Pope was coming to the chapel for a visit. This scared Pfeiffer very much because he wasn’t Catholic, if religious in any way, at all. After all, he had no idea what to expect from the Pope. Would he hate me because of I’m not Catholic? What will he say? were some of Pfeiffer’s apprehensive thoughts.

Despite his fear, Pfeiffer was greeted very warmly by the Pope; The Pope wished him a blessing and nothing more. However, one of Pfeiffer’s friends who was with him in the Sistine Chapel was Catholic; so it was probably easy to imagine how honored he was to meet the Pope and receive a blessing from him.

Austria—specifically in Vienna—would mark the place of James Pfeiffer’s last bombing mission in 1945; his first being in Budapest in 1944.

After the war, on the way home, Pfeiffer and his men got the most terrible news in the world. Over the ship’s loudspeaker, the entire corps heard the news of President Roosevelt’s death. It was a very devastating announcement to hear; some of the men had tears stream from their eyes; after all, Roosevelt had been the hero, the only hope, for the Great Depression, and now he was gone, leaving America with an uncertain economic future.

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When he arrived back in the mainland, Pfeiffer discovered a segregational sign on one of the beaches, saying “White” one way, and “Colored” the other way. Seeing this, he immediately got off his ship, took the sign, and threw it in the ocean. When greeted by people awaiting the return of their veterans, he got so many warm welcomes and thank-yous that he actually started to get bored with them.

As soon as he was home, Pfeiffer got a job as a manufacturer before attending PepperdineUniversity in California thanks to the G. I. Bill. From there, he got his Bachelor of Arts Degree. Later, he started a job teaching while working on getting his Master’s Degree, which he would eventually earn at USC. He got married and had two children. After marrying, he became a school administrator, then the principal of CoronaHigh School before he finally retired. He and his wife were married for sixty-five years before she sadly died.

Today, Mr. Pfeiffer lives a simple life in a fine retirement home. He is the grandfather of eight grandchildren and the great-grandfather of twelve great-grandchildren, with a thirteenth one on the way. Pfeiffer’s greatest vow is, now and was during the three years he served, Never give up.