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Note: Chapter on Cassius Bartlett Barnes, Jr., in TWIGS AND BRANCHES, my online "book" posted to my web page:
WITNESS TO HISTORY: CASSIUS BARTLETT BARNES, JR.
My father, Cassius Bartlett Barnes, Jr., was born on November 26, 1922, the only child of Cassius Bartlett Barnes, Sr. and Lillian Elsie Noonan Barnes. After nine years of marriage, his mother and father were clearly thrilled to be parents, as is reflected in the entries in his baby book. Each and every milestone of his early years is meticulously recorded in (strangely enough!) his father's close handwriting. One would not expect my grandfather, the career military man, to be the "baby chronicler" of the family, but he apparently was! It was a task he undertook in painstaking, precise detail, right down to a graph of my father's fevers during a childhood bout with the measles (perhaps we see the "military man" come through in that...).
My father was truly a "witness to history," on several occasions throughout his life. The first of these was on May 21, 1927, when he (only 4½ years old at the time) and his father took a ride from their home on Long Island, New York, to what was then called Mitchell Field. There they watched Charles Lindbergh, in the "Spirit of St. Louis," take off on his historic flight across the Atlantic Ocean to Paris. The plane, heavily loaded with fuel, barely cleared the trees at the end of the runway, but it did successfully make it into the air, gaining altitude as it began its record-making flight.
My father began his education in the public school system, but in the military tradition of his father, was sent to Admiral Farragut Academy, in Tom's River, New Jersey, at a fairly young age. On May 6, 1937, the school's Camera Club (of which my father was a member) made a field trip to the nearby Naval Air Station at Lakehurst, New Jersey, where they planned to watch the various aircraft as they landed and took off, perhaps taking pictures of them. As it happened, the HINDENBERG, a lighter-than-air, passenger-carrying dirigible (or "zeppelin") was due to land that day. It did, indeed, approach, while my father and his friends watched, but things very quickly went wrong. As it attempted to land, the HINDENBERG exploded in a horrific fireworks display, killing more than a third of the ninety-seven passengers and crew members aboard. In 1980, I interviewed my father about what he saw that day. My father described that day in the interview, excerpted here:
"Of course, we were conscious of the HINDENBERG because we had seen it
.it would come up Tom's River. It was a gorgeous thing to see -- this great big huge zeppelin coming up there slowly, like some kind of a big majestic bird almost. I belonged to a Camera Club, and that's a strange thing, because I didn't have a camera. I thought I might learn something about it, and also it was an excuse to go places.
[On May 6, 1937], there had been electrical storms in the area, but it wasn't a very cold day. As a matter of fact, the evening was beautiful. They had cloud banks up over Tom's River, and the setting sun would hit these cloud banks and it was really very beautiful. And on this kind of setting, here came this beautiful dirigible in off the ocean, coming up Tom's River, and it was going to turn and go into Lakehurst.
Of course, you know how young kids are -- we were very excited about it. They put us in the little jitney bus they had and took us over [to the Lakehurst Naval Air Station]
.Of course, we got there way ahead of the zeppelin, because, you must remember, [the HINDENBERG] was a huge set of gas bags, and if there was any turbulence of wind or anything like that, they had to wait until it was right to bring it in, and there had been thunder storms in the area. We waited around for it to come, and pretty soon, we spotted it.
As I recall, we were standing in a little group behind a rope, and it was coming in from our right. It was getting darker at that time; the evening was wearing on. This beautiful great big thing came down, and we were all excited about it. It came down nose first, and they had the mooring mast out there, and they had already dropped out some of the lines that the sailors were holding onto to guide it. Also, the engines were going off and on to guide it a little bit, too, similar to a ship -- you turn one engine on and it gives you a little turn this way, and you turn the other side on and it turns you the other way. It came down nose first, sort of pointing, not directly vertically down, but slanting towards this mooring mast. As I recall, it didn't get quite to the mooring mast, and I remember distinctly the one engine on my side turning off, and the one on the other side turning on. It was low enough, you could hear it. We were the length of a football field away -- 100 to 150 yards, maybe.
Then, all of a sudden, there was a burst of flame from the rear. Everybody was saying, "Look at that!" Then came a terrific explosion and the tail of the zeppelin dropped and hit the ground. The nose kicked up and there were sailors hanging on to it with strings, tightly, and all of a sudden -- zoom! -- they were up in the air, 25 to 30 feet, and the tail came down and hit the ground.
You must remember, we were youngsters, and we were petrified when this happened. This was not planned! Then there was another explosion and the middle big bag went. By that time, some of the sailors had let go and they had fallen to the ground. And then the nose of the ship started slowly to come down. The tail was on the ground and people started to drop out of the gondola (passenger's cabin). Of course, they were 25 to 30 feet up in the air, and some of them, their clothes were on fire. By that time, as I recall, the nose burst into flames and the whole darn thing just came down right on top of the cabin. People came running out of the thing as best as they could, many with the clothes burned right off their bodies practically.
The people that stood around, some of us were crying because we were so scared. You must remember, we were youngsters, and it was a terrible thing to see. I know we were just terrified there, and these people were coming out of it. Some of them were badly burned. There were crew members, and some of them had broken bones from jumping out of the thing. It was a holocaust they had there.
Ambulances started to arrive. I remember they herded us back on the bus and took us back to the Academy. I didn't sleep that night. I was terrified -- it was a terrible thing!
And yet, there were survivors of it! They had a lot of little hospitals there through those little villages down through the Jersey Shore, and every single one of them was filled up with survivors of this tragedy.
We went back about two weeks after that. We went over [to the wreck of the HINDENBERG] and there it was. It was roped off, the great frame was all melted. The outline of the zeppelin, with this great burned area with pieces of metal sticking up and melted, you know, the framework -- I got a little piece of it. I don't know whatever happened to it, but I had a little piece of it...the sailor that showed us around broke off a little piece for us to have and handed it to me. It was a broken girder. These, I don't think, were steel. I think they were aluminum. Of course, aluminum and magnesium and those things burn if you get them hot enough.
It was something I will never forget because it was all so unexpected. It was really quite a shock to see something like this, and we were immobilized..."
In fact, the kids in the Camera Club were so surprised and upset by what they had witnessed when the HINDENBERG exploded, that none of them had the presence of mind to take any pictures of the disaster!
After graduating from Admiral Farragut Academy, my father attended Worcester Academy, in Massachusetts. He then resumed his early military education, attending college at The Citadel, in Charleston, South Carolina. In 1942, he took a break from his college education when he joined the Enlisted Reserves, which were immediately called up for service in World War II. He was on active duty from 1942 to 1945, serving in the United States Air Force (which was then called the Army Air Force), with the 395th Fighter Squadron of the 368th Fighter Group, part of the 9th Air Force. He spent most of this time as an aircraft armorer on P-47 Thunderbolts, stationed mostly in England, France, Belgium, and Germany -- the European "theater of operations" of the War.
When the European part of the War ended, my father found himself in a place called Straubing, in Germany. A series of circumstances gave him an opportunity to tour Buchenwald Concentration Camp, several days after it was liberated by Allied forces. Again, I interviewed my father, this time about his experiences at Buchenwald. His words were compelling, as he described what he saw that day, excerpted below from the interview:
"We were not stationed right near Buchenwald
I got to go to Buchenwald through a rather unusual circumstance...As I recall, this team showed up from LIFE magazine. Among them was Margaret Bourke-White [the photographer]. Up until that time, none of us had any idea of the holocaust and genocide that [Hitler] had practiced. We had found out subsequently that they had this concentration camp and that she was supposed to take pictures of this place. As I say, none of us really had any idea -- we thought it was like a prisoner of war (POW) camp. We were in for a rude awakening. They needed some fellows that would help her with her equipment. She had quite a bit of it to be stacked on the plane and so forth....
I was helping, and they said, "OK, Corporal. Get on the plane. You're going with us. You can help unload this stuff, too." So, I had no idea where they were going. The first thing you know, we landed on this little strip, and then we got into, as I recall, armed trucks, these big, what they used to call "5-bys" (big covered Army trucks), and we jounced over hill and dale to...Buchenwald.
When we got there, the first thing I noticed was the stench. The stench was terrible. It smelled like raw meat that had decayed, and also there was this burned smell, like if you have ever burned the hair off the back of your hand, or something like that. That smell was very heavy in the air. We went in, and I understood from Ms. Bourke-White and several of the other men that were with us that General Eisenhower had told her to take as many pictures as possible, because "the American people will never believe this." As I said, we had all been informed about this, but we had no idea of the atrocity of the thing.
So we went in and they had these great big fences...They were all electrically charged...they had block houses all around them with machine guns and search lights. I think there were two rows of them...Finally, we were on the inside of the camp, which consisted of barracks-like buildings of the roughest and most rudimentary kind.
The thing that caused me to feel terrible was some of the poor inmates that were still there, and who, under their own power, couldn't get out. They couldn't move on their own. It looked just exactly like skeletons with human skin over them, and no "meat" in between, so to speak. Their eyes bugged out and it was just a terrible thing, and yet, these (for lack of a better word) "things" were still alive...[there were approximately 100 of them]...They were in somewhat of a stupor. They'd been starved, it was obvious, and they looked more dead than alive. [There were] men and women -- I don't remember seeing children.
All this time, Ms. Bourke-White was taking her pictures every time she turned around. I was carrying what looked like a great big Army suitcase, full of equipment. There were a couple of other fellows with us, that were carrying some other stuff...We went into the administration side of [Buchenwald Concentration Camp], and this is where I couldn't conceive of this. They had filing cabinets. It would break your heart...they had one filing cabinet that was filled with baby shoes. There was a four-drawer filing cabinet, filled with nothing but baby shoes just jammed in. In another filing cabinet, they had gold -- that is, wedding rings, engagement rings, lockets, pendants, and the fillings from teeth -- just drawers full of this. In the course of this, we were told that nothing was wasted. Everything was used. The bodies, I understand, were rendered into ash to make soap. The hair was used for mattresses, and so forth. It took your breath away to see so much death.
...We did see the lime pit, where they buried their dead prisoners. It was like a trench and they would put the bodies in and then bulldoze dirt over them, and they would sprinkle lime in to help with the decomposition. As a matter of fact, there was still a bulldozer there...Unfortunately, it was at that point where I had to reduce myself to throwing up...It was the odor that made us sick -- it was terrible. Every soldier in the Second World War has seen other dead soldiers, but this was such a mess! It was just a terrible, terrible thing...
[What] got to me mostly were the poor people who couldn't move under their own power. They just lay there, and their eyes would follow you as you went around. The eyes would bulge out of these skulls with skin over them. It was inconceivable.
They were in, as I say, a rudimentary type of barracks, but they can't be compared with any type of barrack the US Army ever had. It was like a great big long room. They were just laid there on either side, like cord wood. Then there would be another layer on racks, where these people were. And the stench was absolutely over-powering. It was one of those things that got to you.
Very few of them talked. They were incapable of it. You must remember these people were more dead than alive. Our Medical Division came in right behind us and took over to try and do what they could...These people couldn't talk -- they just lay there, and as I say, the thing that got to me was the eyes following you everywhere with such a look in them. It looked like such a look of relief! They knew that the Allies were there and all, but they couldn't express themselves too well...I'll never forget the eyes of those people...You must remember, these people came as near to hell on earth as it is possible to be...You have no idea how it reduces a person to be under conditions like that..."
Later in this interview, I asked my Dad to describe the area surrounding the Buchenwald Concentration Camp, and the reactions of any of the townspeople he might have seen:
"
As I am trying to recall, there were woods and fields. There was a little village of Buchenwald
.In Germany, in that part, the woods were very peculiar. They evidently had been planted "with malice aforethought," shall I say. No matter where you stood, you looked down alleys of trees. Everything was regimented. Even in the woods, you could look down direct lines of trees. And there was very little undergrowth. It was all cleared out. It was almost as if you expected all the trees to stand up and yell, "Heil!" when Hitler walked past! It was all very regimented. It was not like our forests, where you had thousands of different things and underbrush, and everything. It was all cleared, and very peculiar. It was a peculiar feeling you got in a thing like this. The village was like any other little German village, as I recall. They had little houses, and a little tiny square...
[In regard to talking to the townspeople], the first thing you must remember, is that we had a thing called non-fraternization. We didn't talk to them, unless it was an exact application of our duty...And the only time that you spoke to a German civilian was to tell him to get out of the way, or to do this, that or the other thing, or to give him an order...but you didn't speak to them out of the goodness of your heart, or anything...these people were conquered people, and you wanted them to know it.
I remember that the order went out that the people from that area were to be marched through that camp. And, of course, you got the disclaimers that said, "Oh, we didn't know this was going on!" I don't see how they could help but know what was going on. You could smell the place 3 or 4 miles away, if the wind was right! But they were made to march through it -- man, woman and child -- and take a look at what was there. I don't know how anyone could say that they didn't know that something was going on there!"
My father then went on to describe the reaction of the American servicemen he was with in regard to what they had witnessed at Buchenwald:
"I don't think at the time the enormity of the thing actually dawned on us. It took time for it to sink in -- the bestiality of the thing, the enormity of it. It took time for this to dawn on people -- not only on the soldiers, but also on the world...you were sort of dumb-founded...
Let me tell you something interesting. No enlisted man has [a concept] of the overall picture...It took time for it to dawn on the press, and everyone else. And those of us, who, shall I say, were fortunate enough to see something like this while it was still new, it took time for it to dawn on us what we had seen. You had no conception. There was nothing in your whole life to base this on, or to compare it with. Where was anything like this to compare it with, that anybody had ever seen?
I know I was terribly shocked...I wasn't the only one...you couldn't conceive of something like this...the physical senses were attacked. The smell, the sight, these things had an effect on us. It was an immediate effect, but it wasn't until several years later that you began to realize what a terrible, terrible thing this was in human history. You got the picture...Here we are, created in God's image, and we do a thing like this...And for years, we're never going to be able to erase it from humankind's existence."
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Clearly, my father's experiences in World War II (his trip through Buchenwald among them) had a profound and long-lasting effect on him. Years later, he wrote the following poem:
HAUNTED HEDGEROWS
By C.B. Barnes, Jr.
There they lie in silent glory,
There they sleep in hallowed fame.
'Neath the simple wooden crosses,
Lie these martyrs to hate's flame.
In the stillness of the evening,
Dusky herald of the night,
Those who lie in honored slumber
Seem to rise before our sight.
Standing 'twixt the rows of crosses,
Arms outstretched in deep despair,
They are speaking, softly pleading.
Listen! Hear them if you dare.
"We have faced the red hell's fury.
We have fallen in the fray.
Let us not lie cold, forgotten.
Hear us well, then pause and pray.
Pray to him, the earth's creator.
Forget not the lesson taught.
Pray that we, your fallen comrades,
Have not given all for naught.
Harken to our weak beseechings.
You, the living, hear our cry.
'Til our goal is consummated
We must restless, troubled, lie."
Now the breeze blows clear and softly
Through the trees aglow with bloom,
Rustling down the lonely hedgerows
Wafting coolness through the gloom.
As the zephyr passes o'er them,
They return beneath their sod.
Should we fail to do their bidding,
We shall lose our touch with God.
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SS # 475-20-3276
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From a search at www.cem.va.gov:
BARNES, CASSIUS B JR
CPL US ARMY AIR CORPS
VETERAN SERVICE DATES: 02/26/1943 - 10/20/1945
DATE OF BIRTH: 11/26/1922
DATE OF DEATH: 05/02/1992
DATE OF INTERMENT: 05/07/1992
BURIED AT: SECTION 14 SITE 798
CALVERTON NATIONAL CEMETERY
210 PRINCETON BOULEVARD RT 25 CALVERTON , NY 11933
(631) 727-5410
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