Why did a bunch of Jewish American GIs — several of whom did not, by their own admission, have a strong Jewish identity — risk their American citizenship, jail time and, not least, life itself, for what could only be described as the ultimate daredevil mission?
Was it just for the thrill of risk taking for which pilots, particularly in aviation’s early days, were known?
This is the core question that spurs “Above & Beyond,” the recently released documentary about the unlikely story of the founding of Israel’s now world-renowned air force.
The film screened on February 5 to a sold-out crowd at the annual Denver Jewish Film Festival.
Producer Nancy Spielberg (Steven’s sister, the answer to the question everyone inevitably asks when hearing her name) was in attendance and described the project as an attempt to take the story of Israel back to where it started. For people to understand that “there was a partition plan which Israel accepted . . . [and then] had to defend itself.”
In 1947, the British, who were occupying Palestine, announced the end of the League of Nations Mandate, leaving a power vacuum in a tumultuous region that had witnessed a steep increase in violence since the 1920s. In November, 1947 the partition of Palestine was passed in the UN. Israel accepted; the Arab nations rejected. A sharp escalation of the violence already underway was a certainty.
For the aspiring Jewish State, successfully defending itself seemed like a pie-in-the-sky notion. Surrounded by several well-equipped armies working in tandem, Israel had no air force to speak of prior to 1948.
But the conflict was brewing and the Jews of Palestine knew they must prepare.
Enter the American GIs — not all of whom, it turns out, were Jewish, nor all American.
All veterans of WW II, the documentary’s colorful cast of archetypical “Greatest Generation” characters took up the very hush-hush charge to create something from nothing.
Under the stewardship of American Al Schwimmer (whose obituary in 2011 inspired Spielberg to tell this story), these former flying aces acquired surplus American war planes and flew to Czechoslovakia in a circuitous and convoluted flight path to train for their mission to Palestine. There they rendezvoused with more aircraft with which to build their fleet, in the form of dilapidated German Messerschmitts used by the Nazis.
Hush-hush, circuitous and convoluted because the mission was completely illegal. The US State Department had an arms embargo on Palestine and soldiers were warned that they faced being stripped of their citizenship (which did happen to several) if they travelled to Palestine to fight in the Haganah, Palestine’s Jewish army, which at the time was illegal. In practical terms, this meant that the pilots couldn’t fly their newly acquired planes directly from North America to Palestine.
It was a “meet a guy with a flower in his lapel” type of mission; recruitment was conducted clandestinely by scouring Air Force registers for Jewish-sounding family names.
What inspired these Americans to risk their lives for unknown Jews halfway around the world?
The Holocaust. The mass murder of European Jews solidified the identity of these American veterans, not all of who had previously felt strongly Jewish. Yet, the prevalent culture of the 1930s didn’t let them escape the fact that they were different from the average Yank.
Leon Frankel recalls encountering anti-Semitism daily as a child in the Midwest. Another veteran, Lou Lenart, remembers enlisting for the Marines, and when being asked by the recruiter whether as a Jew he could do the job, he retorted, with a touch of chutzpah, “If you’re able to do it, then I certainly can.”
Archival footage of advertisements asking for “Christians only” and signage proclaiming “No Jews” interspersed with the veterans’ recollections serves as evidence for their testimony.
Like the creators of Superman in the 1930s, these American Jews who enlisted for the army learned that to survive “you had to get very strong,” says Frankel.
“I didn’t give a [expletive],” says Gideon Lichtman, recalling how his mother forbade him from going to Palestine. “I was gonna help the Jews out.”
In training in Czechoslovakia the pilots found themselves outfitted in German uniforms complete with Luftwaffe wings.
“The irony was not lost on any of us,” says Leon Frankel.
Through a combination of contemporary interviews, archival footage and extremely realistic reenactments (the viewer can end up a bit confused as to what’s real and what isn’t) the film tells the story of Israel’s War of Independence through its air battles.
The nascent air force is portrayed as a key factor in Israel’s ability to stand up to advancing armies. Despite the first air battle comprising only four pilots and four “junk planes” — the entirety of Israel’s air force then — the Arab armies (mention is made specifically of Egypt) got the impression that these “flying Molotov cocktails” in Lichtman’s evocative phraseology, were part of a much larger force.
So the armies retreated or hunkered down. Later in the war, when the air force was more developed, it undertook an offensive strike against Cairo that is seen as a turning point in the war.
If this group of volunteers was so pivotal to the defense of the State of Israel, why is this inspiring story only being told now?
The Ugly American syndrome.
“Above and Beyond” is a story about Israel, but it’s not really an Israeli story, says Spielberg. Israel sacrificed a great deal for independence, losing 1% of its population. For Americans to make the struggle for independence about themselves wouldn’t have been right.
Spielberg feels that Israel is in a more secure position now regarding its history. That perception was backed up when she screened the film to a crowd of 600 in Israel, among them the commander of the Israeli Air Force, and the response was overwhelming.
The pilots are proud of their contribution, but recognize that their adventure as volunteers was different from that of theIsraeli pioneers.
Lichtman admitted that he and his air force buddies were living the high life, while the Israelis were engaged in a life-and-death struggle.
“We didn’t speak Hebrew and they didn’t speak much English,” so relations weren’t that great, says Lichtman.
That didn’t stop the veterans, such as George Lichter, from finding a way to train Israelis to join the air force, recognizing the need for the natives to take over from the volunteers. Some of the volunteers chose to remain in Israel; a few flew for El Al Airlines.
For Frankel, the mission to Israel was “meant to be.
“Maybe G-d spared us [in WW II] for this.”
“Above and Beyond” (2014) is directed by Roberta Grossman and produced by Nancy Spielberg. It is playing in limited release across the country. Information: aboveandbeyondthemovie.com.
Shana Goldberg may be reached at [email protected].
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