Guest post by Lynne Hasselman
Behind every name engraved on one of our national cemetery’s Tablets of the Missing is an indelible story etched on the hearts of their loved ones. Despite the passage of time, these American heroes live on in faded black and white photographs, yellowed letters home, and faded telegrams marked with tears.
Out of 81,500 American service members missing in action (MIA), 72,000 were from World War II. Their lives were marked by war, but it didn’t define them. They lived with color, vitality, and courage, and they had hopes and dreams still waiting to be realized. First and foremost, they were someone’s beloved husband, father, child, sibling, or friend.
As part of an ongoing effort, Project Recover is introducing in a more personal way some of the POW/MIA servicemen for whom we continue to search. We’ve come to know and care for their families, and through their generous sharing of information, history, and memories, we’ve come to know and care for their family member as well.
Our commitment to helping them complete their final mission and return home continues.
Today, we remember 2nd Lt. Arthur J. Schumacher, a 22-year-old bombardier from Duluth, Minnesota assigned to the 424th Bombardment Squadron, 307th Bombardment Group.
On September 1, 1944, the Arnett crew, in a B-24 heavy bomber with 2nd Lt. Schumacher as bombardier, took off from Wakde Airfield in the Palau Islands.
They never returned.
After 10 years of searching, the BentProp Project, the precursor to Project Recover, located the aircraft wreckage on the ocean floor. Eight of the crew members were recovered, formally identified by the Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency (DPAA) and at the request of their families, buried in a joint interment at Arlington National Cemetery or in their hometowns.
2nd Lt. Schumacher, assistant radioman SSgt. John Moore, and photographer Sgt. Alexander R. Vick managed to bail out but were probably picked up by a Japanese boat before they could escape. Taken as POWs by enemy forces, they were executed several days later.
Eighty years later, Project Recover continues to search for them.
The story of Arthur Schumacher, known to everyone as Art, began on a quiet, leafy street in Minnesota where he grew up with his two younger brothers. Parents Nicholas and Marie, immigrants from Luxembourg, traded their home country’s pastoral farms and vineyards for the plentiful jobs and economic opportunities of Duluth’s steel mills and iron foundries. Proudly patriotic, they became naturalized American citizens and learned to speak English fluently. All three of their sons were born in Duluth.
The oldest, Art, a student at Denfeld High School, was tall and handsome with chiseled features, blue eyes, and light brown hair. His direct, serious gaze belied his quick sense of humor and ready smile. An excellent student, his friendliness, warmth, and genuine interest made him a favorite among his classmates.
He was someone who liked to keep busy and wasn’t afraid of a challenge. In addition to playing on the hockey team, Art was in the orchestra, on the staff of the school newspaper, and involved with school leadership. He also had a steady girlfriend who he liked to take to high school games, dances, and weekend movie matinees.
The caption next to his senior picture in the 1940 high school yearbook described his personality perfectly when it said, “Genial, exuberant, and full of vitality, he loves a life full of joviality.”
During Duluth’s long winters, Art could be found ice skating at nearby Chester Park’s outdoor rink or racing down a ski ramp trying to beat his record jump of 35 feet. When the weather grew warmer, he was on the baseball field or basketball court, running track, or swimming.
On steamy nights during the summer, music could be heard drifting through the open windows of the Schumacher home. It was Art playing the piano, violin, or harmonica.
He taught himself to knit, collected and cataloged stamps, played a mean game of cribbage, and was a voracious reader as long as he had a bowl of popcorn with him. His parents encouraged him to try new things, follow his passions, and work hard. He did all three.
Aviation was Art’s fascination, and from a young age, he meticulously constructed model airplanes from balsa wood and tissue paper. By the time he was in high school, he set his sights on becoming an engineer.
The clouds of war came early to Duluth, home to one of the biggest ports on the Great Lakes. On the front lines for producing and fabricating steel for tanks, weapons and cargo vessels, Duluth also provided the raw materials for gunpowder. As an electrical welder at one of the large steel plants by the Duluth-Superior Harbor, his father experienced firsthand the frenetic pace as defense needs grew.
On May 10, 1940, Germany invaded Luxembourg, Belgium, and the Netherlands, and the Schumachers’ extended family, including parents Nicholas and Marie’s elderly parents, were under Nazi occupation. Sadly, Marie’s father died before Luxembourg could be liberated by the Allies. The war in Europe was then deeply personal, and putting his engineering plans on hold, Art went to the Duluth recruiting station and enlisted in the U.S. Army Air Corps.
When the call came for him to report for duty at the Jefferson Army Barracks, one of the largest Air Corps training centers in the country, he was ready. His next stop was Kansas City, Missouri for the Army’s aircraft mechanics training school, and from there, to California for his primary and basic flight training.
Being a bombardier was an ideal choice for Art, and his high marks guaranteed him a spot at the Army’s Advanced Flying School for bombardiers at Carlsbad, New Mexico. All morning, six days a week, Art studied physics, math, meteorology, electricity, navigation, battle strategy, and gunnery. Every afternoon and into the evening, he flew in a training aircraft dropping sand-filled practice bombs on targets representing ships, aircraft, factories, and bullseyes.
Before heading overseas, Art had one last visit home. All too quickly, he had to bid his family and girlfriend goodbye. Resolutely shouldering his Army duffle bag, he stepped on the train bound for northern California, his port of embarkation.
The evening that he and his crew left for destinations unknown, they were each given a Red Cross “good luck box” containing a sandwich, candy bar, and orange. The dark humor wasn’t lost on Art.
“I’ll never forget as we passed over the Golden Gate Bridge and took our last look,” a pilot from Art’s bombardment group remembered. “Behind us were the lights of America with people laughing, dancing, doing as they pleased with no worries to bother them. In front of us was nothing but the blackness of the Pacific Ocean and uncertainty.”
None of them knew until they were in the air that their destination was Palau, off the coast of Western New Guinea, and the site of some of the fiercest fighting in the Pacific.
On Friday, September 1, 1944, the Arnett crew received an early morning wakeup call for that day’s mission.
Temperatures at the Wadke Airfield were already in the mid-80s as each crew member went through their extensive checklist before engine start. Art finished supervising loading the bombs into the bomb rack and checking their safeties. He then went to the cramped nose compartment to check the state-of-the-art Norden bombsight before moving to the seats behind the pilot and co-pilot for takeoff.
Just before the bomb run was set to begin, Art made his way through the bumpy, noisy aircraft down the narrow catwalk between the bomb racks to set the fuses and release the latch safeties. Then he went to the Norden bombsight to enter in the wind direction, air speed and altitude. The bombsight then calculated the flight path and drop point.
Probably over northern Koror after completing the bomb run, their B-24 was hit in the left wing by anti-aircraft fire. It burst into flames and went into uncontrolled spin. Its fuselage breaking in two, it crashed into the ocean leaving a trail of wreckage on the oil slicked water.
Three parachutes were seen opening before the aircraft hit the water. One of them was Art’s.
The fall leaves in Duluth were just starting to turn brilliant red and gold when after dinner on September 18, 1944, a Western Union Telegram was delivered to the Schumacher home on North 60th Avenue.
“The Secretary of War desires me to express his deep regret that your son, Second Lieutenant Arthur J. Schumacher, has been reported missing in action since 1 September over Palau Island,” it read. “If further details or other information are received, you will be promptly notified.”
Nicholas and Marie hoped it was a terrible mistake and that soon, their son would come bounding up the front steps with a story to tell. Art’s brothers, both in high school and facing the possibility of going off to war themselves, were despondent, and his girlfriend heartbroken.
In March 1946, Art was officially listed as dead by the War Department.
Each Memorial Day from then on when the lilacs were in full bloom throughout Duluth, Marie Schumacher put on her best dress and hat, and affixed her Gold Star Mother’s pin over her heart. Then she walked quietly to the Memorial Day parade to take part in a solemn procession with other Gold Star Mothers. All had lost in war what they held most dear.
In honor of 2nd Lt. Arthur J. Schumacher (June 6, 1922-September 1, 1944), much loved and missed, and with thanks and gratitude to the Schumacher family. We also appreciate the ongoing support of Art’s niece, Jo Schumacher, who traveled to her uncle’s crash site in Palau with Project Recover in 2014.
Author Lynne Hasselman is a researcher, writer, and historian who specializes in sharing the stories of ordinary Americans who lived during the extraordinary times of WWI and WWII. She has written numerous articles for newspapers, been interviewed for radio, and has given presentations on the lives of fallen servicemen, our POW/MIAs, and life on the home front.
A volunteer researcher for the Grave Adoption Program at the Netherlands American WWII Cemetery in Margraten, Lynne holds a Bachelor of Science degree in journalism from Cal Poly State University, San Luis Obispo and a Master of Public Health degree from Portland State University.
She and her family live in southern Oregon.
Many thanks and endless appreciation to the Project Recover teams for their dedication in the search for our missing family members. We remain hopeful that our Uncle Arthur will one day return home. Jo Schumacher