A few questions to Ronald Weber

Ronald Weber is professor emeritus of American studies at the University of Notre Dame, Indiana, United States.

He has published romances and non-fiction. 

His past books include News of Paris, America in Change, The Literature of Fact, and Hired Pens.. 

His most recent work "The Lisbon Route - Entry and Escape in Nazi Europe" was originally published in March 2011. 

In last April a Portuguese version appeared in the bookshops.

There can find the story of Lisbon as the entry and escape hatch for a Europe deeply involved in WWII.

There is still a discussion about how many refugees arrived in Portugal.

Certain is that thousands found in the Lisbon harbor the chance to escape the Nazi advance. 

Rich people, poor people, intellectuals or just common people arrived in cars, by train, in bicycles and even on foot.   

Land in Portugal – How did you become interested in the story of the refugees, escapees and others that went through Portugal to leave or enter Europe?

Ronald Weber - I was a visiting lecturer in American culture at the University of Coimbra in 1968-69.  

It was then that I first heard stories about German pilots coming to neutral Portugal during the war for rest and recreation.  

But it wasn't until I published in 2006 a book called NEWS OF PARIS: AMERICAN JOURNALISTS IN THE CITY OF LIGHT BETWEEN THE WARS that I recalled those earlier stories when I learned that many journalists and others escaped Europe through Lisbon after the fall of France in 1940.  

I decided then that my next book would be about Lisbon as the great escape hatch of WWII.

LP – Although occupying the same physical space you describe two different countries that rarely touched each other. One for the Portuguese and another for all the others. How was this possible?

RW - The refugees and others who reached Portugal were required by the Salazar government to move on as quickly as possible to countries that would accept them for permanent resettlement.  

As a result, the new arrivals made few contacts with Portuguese citizens beyond workers in hotels and restaurants, agents of shipping companies and commercial airlines, and local police officers.  

Beyond that, the refugees were gathered together in Lisbon and a few others towns, such as Caldas da Rainha and Ericeira, were authorities required them to stay while awaiting resettlement.  Portuguese elsewhere in the country would have had little or no awareness of the many thousands of people flowing through the country.  

But one caution here.  I studied those coming and going through Portugal during the war from their point of view.  

It was their story I tried to tell.  Another story is what the Portuguese may have thought and felt about such new arrivals.  

To get at that story one would have to look into purely Portuguese material in the form of letters, diaries, memoirs, novels, etc.

LP – Reaching Portugal was not – for most of these refugees - the end of the line or the end of the fear?

RW -  Reaching Portugal was the end of the line for very few people (Calouste Gulbenkian was among the few) since Portugal wouldn't allow the creation of a permanent colony of refugees.  

Many had an overwhelming sense of freedom when they reached the country.  But there was always a sense that Germany could end Portugal's neutrality whenever it wished.  There were as well always stories of the Nazis abducting from the streets of Lisbon figures they wanted, especially anti-Nazi Jews.

It was always understood by the new arrivals that full freedom required leaving Lisbon behind.

The Lisbon Route, from Ronald Weber was published in 2011. You can find more about it  HERE.

LP – You have a chapter dedicated to the lights of Lisbon. Was it really something that fascinated the refugees?

RW - Lisbon's brilliant illumination at night dazzled the new arrivals coming from largely blacked-out Europe.  

It hardly seemed possible that tiny Portugal could live as if the war did not exist.

Equally dazzling, especially early in the war, was the abundance of food in Portugal after the shortages and rationing refugees had experienced in Europe.

LP – Was there any story more surprising for you than any of the others?

RW - I knew that wartime Lisbon was a center of spy activity, but I didn't know the tangled extent of it--including the great number of Portuguese employed as low level watchers and tipsters.  

I think a full account of Lisbon as a spy center is yet to be written.  Another area that surprised me was that of relief groups (Quakers, Unitarians, Jewish groups, etc.) who moved their center of operations to Lisbon during the war and made heroic efforts to aid the refugees with funding, housing, and counseling.

Carlos Guerreiro

Searching for Sousa Mendes refugees

In 1940 the Portuguese Consul in Bordeaux, Aristides de Sousa Mendes, was suddenly confronted with thousands of persons asking for a visas to get to Portugal.

The government had forbidden the Portuguese diplomats to give those visas knowing that the country would be over flooded by thousands of persons that had only one idea – escaping the Nazis.

He disregarded the order and passed thousands of visas…

The Government would – during and after the war – win the recognition as a country that was a friend to the refugees, and also get the respect of the international press…

Sousa Mendes would loose his career and fall in disgrace…

The Sousa Mendes Foundation, in Seattle, has now started a global search for those who were saved by the action of this Portuguese consul. They are trying to locate survivors or family of those who survived…

To know more about Sousa Mendes click HERE.

To know more about the search click HERE.

Best regards

Carlos Guerreiro

Howell’s New Year emergency landing in Portugal

On December 31, 1943 Don Howell was the navigator of Lockheed Hudson FK761 on the way from England to Egypt.

Over the Bay of Biscay they were attacked by a Luftwaffe patrol. One of their engines was hit, but they were able to escape and reach Portugal, where they made a emergency landing.

 In 2000 Don came to Portugal and we made a trip to the Grândola area in search for the place where 60 years earlier he and his friends ended their trip to Egypt.

We found witnesses of the event and also the exact place where the Lockheed crash-landed and burned. I made a couple of images at the location and a friend of mine – Jorge Belo – helped me recording a interview with Don.

Don Howell at the left and the two witnesses of the crash-landing - José and Julio Pereira. The son of one the men is also in the picture. 

The images I collected are not in the best shape, as I used a friend camera that I did not knew how to use. In 2007 from the one hour interview and the pictures I collected I made a 20 minute movie for a English class of the University of the Algarve, where I was studying.

My English is not always the best but I hope everybody understands it. The Portuguese witnesses are not translated, and I’m sorry for that…




Unfortunately Don was not more between us when the movie was finished.

This is also in his memory…

Best regards and a happy New year…
Carlos Guerreiro

I wish I remember...

The 20 years old wireless officer Alan Comes, from the merchant navy, was one of the few survivors when his ship was sunk by a U-boat, just after the war begun.

A couple of weeks later he sent a letter to his cousin in Australia where he tells about his nightmare and also his loss of memory that resulted of this misadventure.

He was a crewmember of the “Darino”, a small Merchant ship sunk on the 19th November 1939, a couple of hours after steaming out from Oporto, in Portugal.

The U-boat U-41, commanded by Gustav-Adolf Mugler, made several attacks before hitting the ship that took 16 of the 27 sailors with her into the bottom of the sea, including the commander William James Ethelbert Colgan.

Picture from a wreked ship published in the portuguese newspaper "Século Ilustrado", September 30, 1939.

(Arquivo Histórico de Portimão)

Alan’s letter was published on February3, 1940 in “The Australian Women’s Weekly”…


MY Dear Cousin Dorothy,


This is about to be the hardest letter I've ever written in my life.

You see, it's like this everyone tells me that I've been to Australia and have therefore seen you, Uncle Mick and Auntie Tone, but the tragedy is that I can't remember anything about it at all.


I've lost a portion of my memory, and if all I have heard from other people about my trip to Australia is true, then I've lost the best portion of my life.


Anyway, I'll begin by thanking you very much indeed for the letter and Christmas wishes, and will now in turn hope that you all have the happiest of Christmases and the merriest of New Years.


You mention in your letter that I sent you a brooch. Mother has also talked about it, but I'm afraid I can't even remember what it looked like, or sending it.


The war has come home to me with a nasty experience.


My ship the Darino was torpedoed three weeks today at 3 o'clock on a pitch black Sunday morning returning from Oporto in Portugal to Liverpool (19th November). We were 300 miles from the nearest land (Cape Finisterre) and more or less in the Bay of Biscay.


The submarine gave us no warning. There were 27 of the crew altogether, but only ll of us survived.


The torpedo hit by No. 3 hatch on the after end of the ship, practically blowing us in two. We were only a little ship of 800 tons. The after mast broke off, and smashed the wireless room to pieces, just missing me.


I had been asleep when the torpedo hit us, so was only in pyjamas.


We had two lifeboats, but they were smashed to atoms.


I had to fight my way out of my cabin as the sandbags on the top had trapped me in.
The dynamo must have been blown up, as all this was happening in the pitch darkness.


I managed to pick up my Jacket coat, but could not find a life-jacket. I rushed round to the wireless room, but it was a hopeless wreck, and the screams of the poor fellows trapped below were sending me crazy.


All this was happening in three minutes because the next second I was washed clean overboard and down. My watch, which I've still got, stopped exactly at 3, and the torpedo hit us at three minutes to the hour.


Suddenly out of the water a big black shape rose. I thought it was the poor Darino coming up owing to the boilers bursting, but it was the U-boat. I had forgotten all about it.


At first I thought they were going to machine-gun us in the water, but instead they shouted to us to swim towards them as quickly as possible and they would save us.


So they took us on board, but I don't remember much of that as I was nearly unconscious. Anyway, the Germans treated us very well, wrapped us in blankets, and slept on the iron deck so that we could have their bunks.


When we counted up there were only ll of us. The captain and my pal, the third mate, were killed, and the engineers, too, all of them, and the cook, steward, cabin boy, and firemen also, making a total of 16 dead.


The chief mate and second mate were saved.


The commander of the submarine asked us three officers to dine with him, and they gave us exceptionally good food, fresh butter, too.


About ll a.m. the submarine dived and the Germans took action stations; it was a British convoy passing over us!


Any second we expected to be blown up by depth charges, as our own men above would not know there were survivors in the submarine.


Thank God the destroyers did not hear us with their listening gear, or I would not be writing this now. But, believe me, we were absolutely terrified, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.


Eventually we were transferred to a neutral ship named Caterina Gerolimich, an Italian one.


The Germans gave us each two packets of cigarettes, and they also gave me a pair of trousers.


The Italians treated us wonderfully, too.


We had a nightmare of a journey to Dover on the Italian ship, as she had no charts of the mined area and she wandered in and out of minefields. We expected to go sky-high at any minute.


So here I am, pretty well intact except for a slight shell-shock, loss of memory, and a slightly damaged hip.


I can't sleep very well, and daren't shave myself, so please will you excuse my writing as I'm not very steady about the hands.


Sincerely,
Alan


Carlos Guerreiro

<---------------------------------------->

To know more about other shipwreked click HERE

To know more about the Darino click HERE

A few questions to Ted Hedges

Ted Hedges was a flight engineer on B-17 with 220 Sqn, RAF Coastal Command during the latter part of WWII. In October 1943 he was in one of the first allied crews to arrive at Lagens field, Azores, were he got involved in the closing the “Atlantic Gap” patrolling the sea, escorting ship convoys and ultimately searching for German submarines.

On June 22, 2011, he returned to Lagens in a visit sponsored by Heroes Return, a program supported by the United Kingdom’s Big Lottery Fund. In this case he also had the local cooperation of the Portuguese and American air- forces, the Lagens “resident’s” since WWII period….

After this visit I was able to send him questions trough e-mail…

Land in Portugal: Why did you wanted to return to the Azores?

Ted Hedges: At age 19, I was the Flight Engineer on the third four-engined Boeing Flying Fortress to land on the grass airfield of Lagens.

For the next nine months I met and lived amongst a very poor but happy and kind people. Terceira is a very beautiful island and we found that in the midst of such people and the beauty surrounding us it was possible to do our operational duty despite the stress and strains of our flying.

When the opportunity came to go back to the island it was a wish come true. I would be able to see not only those friendly people but visit all those places which had only been names in 1943.

Land in Portugal: What places did you visited and why?

Ted Hedges: The first place I had to visit was Pria Da Vitoria. A family (now in the USA) welcomed me into their home and were very kind. Pria was a village at that time and we could get really great meals of fried chicken and chips with lovely fresh bread and butter. It was within walking distance of Lagens airfield or we could travel in the two-wheel horse-drawn carts for 5 Eskudos each. (In 1943 we got 100 eskudoes for £1.00). We had no organised transport so other than 2 or 3 visits to Angra, the remainder of the Island was only seen from the air.

My helper Eva and I stayed at the Angra Garden Hotel, which was very good, and we set out to see as much of the island as possible. We were taken on a complete tour of the island and made visits to the Portuguese command and American command bases.

We were well received everywhere and at the American base I was asked to do a recording (of which I now have a transcript) covering our operational flying by all the Squadrons based at Lagens in the nine months I was there.

We made three visits to the British War Cemetery. We visited all the graves and I laid flowers on my friend’s grave. Eva and I then laid flowers around the Cross from the families of men who had been lost in the seas around the islands.

We spent a morning in the garden of Angra. It is so beautiful there and the pictures we took match one I have from 1943 of some of the ground crew who serviced my Fortress aircraft, taken when sitting around the fountain.

Land in Portugal: There must have been some mixed feelings during your visit?

Ted Hedges: Feelings? Mixed? Yes. Visiting the graves of the men lying there. Reinforced my view that war is futile, wasteful, and takes the best of every nation that becomes involved. The older I get the greater the wonder and the thoughts of why was I spared. Why them and not me ? What great things might they have done if they had lived?

The cemetery is a place of great sadness, of ‘faces’ and memories which can never be forgotten, of peace and quiet. On my third and final visit I left in tears.

The sadness is bearable because when, in the subsequent time touring the beautiful villages, the coast, historic places, gardens, museums and churches and meeting the people, realising what great progress and developments have taken place since war’s end in1945, the sacrifice made by those men ensured that Terceira has had the time and opportunity to become the lovely place it now is.

Land in Portugal: Was there any particular moment of your RAF years in the Azores that you still remember strongly?

Ted Hedges: This question is most difficult. Robert’s book is full of such ‘special moments’. The first sight of Terceira as we overflew the grass valley which was to become our airfield. Our first loss and the search for the aircraft. The moment when realisation hit home of the speed with which the weather changed to downright dangerous in such a short time. Watching our little single-engined Walrus biplane landing across the width of our runway into a headwind while flying backwards in relation to the runway. There are so many moments.

Land in Portugal: Have you any particular memories related with the Portuguese people?

Ted Hedges: I left Terceira in July 1944 with very great regret. All of the Portuguese people I met were happy, kind and gentle. I was lucky enough to meet two
families. The first was the lady who did my laundry . She had two daughters and the elder was about to get married. Through her I was introduced to a very affluent family in Pria Da Vitoria and was welcomed into their home whenever I had free time from my duties. Of this family the father was, I think, the school master. There were three daughters Maria De Lourdes, Conceseion and Anna Maria. They learned that I was to be married on my next leave and after my future wife sent me a picture of the wedding dress she would like and her measurements, the family had the dress made. When I went home and was married it fitted my bride perfectly.

I have been in contact with this second family and all three girls now live in the USA.

During the visit of 2011 ted visited the British cemetery. There he put flowers in the grave of  his friend Joseph ‘Rocky’ Boudreault and payed homage to all the men that died in the Azores. 

 (Picture Eva Jones)

A mission in Ted’s word’s

In one of the questions I sent to Ted I wanted to know how was his typical day in the Azores. This was not the first time someone asked him that…

So he asked his friend Robert Stitt (see here) to give him a hand.

Robert – author of the book “B-17 in Coastal Command” (see here) – made Ted a similar question some time ago… and got a very complete and long answer.

Robert was nice enough and decided to send me part of his book – the description of a mission by Ted - and authorized me to use as much as I needed. 

I took his word and abused a little but the words of Ted are so valuable. I have cut some parts – you will be able to identify them – in order to shorten it a bit, but the credits of this belong to Robert and of course Ted.

I would like to thank both of them for the cooperation.

Before going to Ted’s words, here is some information.

Two B-17 squadrons – 206 and 220 – arrived in the Azores in October 1943. Each squadron had 18 crews of eight men.

The crews were inserted in the operation board by the name of it’s captain – usually the pilot – in a rotation system. So when you arrived in the top of the board you knew the next mission was yours.

When the flight before yours takes off you are already with your crew, because if there is a call for assistance you would be the first in line.

This said, here is the description from Ted Hedges of a typical mission. He would stay up about two hours before the mission to shave, eat and get instructions. Then they go…

We learn that our mission is to provide cover for a convoy of 100 ships sailing from Canada to the United Kingdom. (…)

Our captain, Brian Reuter, checks in with all the crew and then taxis to the active runway. As flight engineer I stand entirely unsecured between the pilots with my arms looped around the shaped armour sheet fitted to their seats. My destination in the case of accident is 200 yards straight ahead through the windshield. (…)

We weigh 56,000 pounds… we are 6,000 pounds overweight… and have four engines of just over 1,000hp each for a total of 4,100 hp. Of our 26 tons, a little over ten tons is our full load of fuel and about five tons is weapons and explosives. As we occupy our take-off positions we know that if an engine fails we are likely dead… so until we all hear the reassuring ‘clunk’ of wheels locking in their housings, we each ponder the possibilities.

(…)We have no set height on patrol or transit but never fly at more than 3,000ft. Our parachute bags remain stacked against the rear wall of radio cabin on the port side and we never bother putting on our parachute harnesses. There is no ’chute servicing facility at Lagens and if we are ever called on to use these things we doubt they will open. For months, until the Nissen huts are built, our flight equipment bags sit on the bare earth in our tents.

From now on the navigator will not cease his calculations until just before we land. The two pilots remain in their seats all the way while the remaining crewmembers, including the flight engineer, change positions every hour. (…)

In the event of an anti-submarine action or an emergency, the senior WOP/AG takes over the radio as soon as is practical while the flight engineer does whatever is called for by the captain and the gun positions are manned appropriate to the situation… the top turret gunner is designated the ‘fire controller’ in the event the aircraft is attacked by enemy aircraft.

We took off at 05:00 and it is still dark, (…)

Remember, we are heading out into the middle of the Atlantic. We have no satellites or the super electronics of today. Our navigator has only his drawing instruments, a sextant, magnetic and gyro compasses, a very accurate watch, and his crewmates’ faith that, for perhaps the next 12 to 13 hours, his math and the drawing of lines on a chart will remain accurate.

We expect to meet the convoy at 09:00 which, at an indicated air speed of 150 knots, is something like 600 nautical miles from base. We are instantly alert to any ‘click’ and exchange over the intercom so only essential instructions are given to one another. (…)

Every 15 minutes after take-off, the navigator gives the duty radio operator the aircraft’s position in latitude and longitude for transmission to base. Since base knows our take-off time, the message fixes our last ¼-hour position so our likely position any time in the next 15 minutes can be calculated. (…)

We should be within sighting distance of the convoy but the weather is changing with the clouds down to low-level and rain squalls blotting out much of the sea surface. The navigator and captain briefly discuss that we are where the convoy should be but there is no sign of it. It’s decided to undertake a search so we fly a square pattern with so many minutes for each leg, but with no success. The captain then calls for a radar search which, in theory, should cover a 60 mile pattern… but again, nothing. There is only one more chance and we call on our senior radio operator [WO Joseph E Roch] ‘Rocky’ Boudreault.

 

Joseph E Roch ‘Rocky’ Boudreault 

was the WO that oriented Ted's Fortress back in this mission. 

He passed away in in the post-take-off crash of Fortress IIA FK206 in the early morning hours of December 4, 1943.

(…)He transmits our call sign with an encoded request for an air-to-air homing, feeding bearings back to the pilot as he succeeds in making contact. He can tell we are approaching the holding aircraft as the signal strength increases and we at last make visual contact with the other Fortress, then using the trigger-operated Aldis lamp to communicate in Morse code.

We join the convoy at 09:45, some 4¾ hours after takeoff. Our relief aircraft is due to arrive at 13:00 so for next three hours we fly escort as requested. Our first task is to circle the convoy and count the number of ships to see whether they have had any losses and if there are any stragglers. We then communicate with the convoy commander and are instructed to carry out the type of cover required. We learn that the convoy changed course after we took off to avoid a U-boat concentration and that for more than four hours it has been steaming at over 15 knots some 70 degrees to port of its original course.

(…)

We have now been airborne for nearly eight hours and are expecting a relief aircraft to arrive. The weather is still deteriorating and it’s getting very rough in the aircraft. The power of the sea terrifies me. I’ve looked down on a convoy and seen 40,000-ton vessels buried up to their bridge structure by sea water and then seen the whole length of their bilge keels… smaller ships seem to disappear completely. (…)

The radio operator calls the captain to report he has received a signal that our relief aircraft has been recalled to base, as have we. The weather at Lagens is closing in and we may have problems getting down. The convoy commander is told we are departing and will not be replaced...

(…)

One’s awareness level is suddenly boosted to a very high level when the pilot and navigator hold a conversation regarding the latter’s inability to accurately determine wind and drift for the last 90 minutes. He has maintained two plots since we left the convoy, one based on his plot of our position when we found the convoy, the second on the position given to us by the convoy’s navigator. The latter should be the more accurate but the lack of a drift estimate applies to both plots and our actual position is now suspect, although both plots suggest that we should to be around 60 nautical miles from base.

The captain orders ‘Rocky’ to have the ASV radar manned, with the operator concentrating on our forward track to hopefully pick up the beacon at Lagens… there is silence as we await his report. It’s been 12 hours since takeoff and our fuel is getting low… what feels like a year goes by before there is the click of a mic switch and the report: “Radar to skipper, beacon ahead, 10 degrees to port.” The operator calls for a slow turn to the left until the beacon’s glow is dead on the centreline of the radar screen.

We know Lagens is 60 miles ahead but we are in solid cloud at 3,000ft and approaching our base with its 3,000-foot mountains on one side of the runway and a 500-foot hill on the other… we have to arrive in line with a runway or it could be very nasty. So we will conduct a BABS approach, a demanding procedure that requires absolute co-operation and trust between the pilot and senior radio operator.

We arrive over Lagens, invisible below us, at our safe height of 4,000ft and enter a circular pattern. ‘Rocky’ begins receiving signals from BABS while Brian flies the aircraft in accordance with a stream of instructions from the radio operator and with reference to a small instrument with two cross needles. Meanwhile the crew take up landing positions while I perform a final security check to ensure there are no loose items to fly around in the event of a rough landing… I then take my position standing between the pilots.

All is now set. ‘Rocky’ has guided the captain directly over the island and at a certain point the cross needles tell him we have over flown over the centreline of the airfield. The co-pilot starts a stopwatch at that instant and we are now fully reliant on the skills of ‘Rocky’ and Brian. They must follow a precise pattern, timed to the second and adjusted constantly to Rocky’s instructions.

A final turn should put us in line with the centre of the runway and we begin our descent at timed intervals. At the captain’s order, it’s “Undercarriage down” as the co-pilot strains for a glimpse of the runway. Next come: “Flaps down” and “Airspeed” and from this point on I constantly call out the airspeed. We pass through 1,000ft and are still in cloud. On through 700ft… 500ft… but still no sight of the airfield. ‘Rocky’ gives a slight heading correction at 400ft and at any second we will have to apply full power to climb to safety.

Then, just off line to the right, we spot the runway lights. With a slight right bank and correction we are lined up, then it’s throttles right back and the airspeed bleeds off. Brian has the control wheel pulled right back and we are just a few feet up. A slight forward and back movement of the wheel and there’s a thump followed by the immense clatter of the planked runway as we roll out and brake to a standstill. Touchdown is at 17:45 hours, 12 hours 45 minutes after we took off, 15 hours 15 minutes after we were woken up.

(…) As we climb into the truck, our captain speaks for us all: “Thanks, ‘Rocky’” No one has anything to add.


Note: This post has undergone changes related to historical aspects after contact was made by the author Robert Stitt on 13 September 2010. I wish to thank him

Carlos Guerreiro

Lecture Portugal and the refugees 1940-1942

The video is about 36 minutes long and is a lecture from pelo professor Neill Lochery in UCL Hebrew and jewish Studies.

The refugee invasion that happened in Portugal in the begining of 1940 is the theme of this lecture.

It is interesting and very complete... I thank my friend patrick Gerrassi for calling my attention to this lecture...



Carlos Guerreiro

Good bye Bill

My friend Bill Littlejohn has passed away last November. He is one of the persons I refer in my book and one of the great helpers in this project.

He landed in Lisbon in the end of 1942 and was interned for a time. In 2008 he was invited back to see the book release were he is refered. Unfortunatly he could not come, but he made a video with his son where he tells his story.

Thank you Bill for everything, where ever you are....