Flying aircraft in World War I was a perilous occupation, and many airmen lost their lives even before seeing combat. In this roundup of the 10 beloved forgotten Allied aces, we celebrate those celebrated celebrities of the skies who captured the public’s imagination yet remain largely absent from modern histories.

Why These 10 Beloved Forgotten Heroes Still Matter

Beyond the well‑known names like the Red Baron, a host of daring pilots earned fame, medals, and adoration during the Great War. Their stories of bravery, tragedy, and occasional controversy deserve a fresh look, especially as we commemorate the centenary of a conflict that reshaped aviation forever.

10 Albert Ball

Manfred von Richthofen, better known as the Red Baron, once called Albert Ball “by far the best English flying man.” Born in Nottingham on 14 August 1896, Ball enlisted with the Notts and Derby Regiment at the outbreak of war and quickly rose to lieutenant. He first pursued private flying lessons before transferring to the Royal Flying Corps, earning his pilot’s wings in January 1916 and soon after taking on reconnaissance duties with several squadrons.

The young ace notched his inaugural kill—a German reconnaissance pilot—in May 1916, and within weeks he was racking up as many as three victories a day. By his 20th birthday in August 1916, Ball had already been promoted to acting captain and had claimed 17 enemy aircraft. The British press turned him into a household name, and crowds in Nottingham would mob him whenever he returned on leave.

In a heartfelt letter to his parents, Ball confessed that seeing an enemy plane go down was his saddest moment, yet he believed it was a matter of “his life or theirs.” On 26 September 1916 he was awarded both the Distinguished Service Order and a bar on the same day. By the following year he had amassed 44 confirmed victories and another 25 unconfirmed claims. In his final correspondence, dated 6 May 1917, Ball admitted he felt increasingly like a murderer and hoped the war would end soon, weary of endless killing.

The day after that poignant letter, Ball entered a fierce dogfight over Douai, France, where he faced the Red Baron’s brother, Lothar von Richthofen. Ball managed to puncture Lothar’s fuel tank, forcing a crash‑landing, but a German pilot then shot down Ball’s aircraft, claiming his life. Though von Richthofen was credited, the exact shooter remains uncertain. Ball’s reputation as a “lone wolf” endured; he famously tackled as many as six enemy aircraft solo, stalking them from below before delivering the fatal blow. Posthumously, he was honoured with the Victoria Cross, France’s Legion of Honour, and Russia’s Order of St. George (4th class).

9 Georges Guynemer

When Georges Guynemer first tried to enlist in 1914, French physicians dismissed him as too frail to serve. Leveraging his father’s influence, he secured a position as an aviation mechanic, and by March 1915 he entered pilot training, earning his wings just a month later. His first combat triumph arrived on 19 July 1915, when he and his gunner downed a German Aviatik, shortly thereafter joining the elite Storks squadron.

Guynemer’s wartime résumé reads like an action film: over 600 aerial engagements, seven shoot‑downs where he survived, and a flood of letters from adoring fans—mostly schoolgirls proposing marriage and youngsters begging for autographs. Flying his beloved SPAD VII, nicknamed “Old Charles,” he could dispatch up to four enemy aircraft in a single day. He later modified the aircraft, installing a single‑shot 37 mm cannon that fired through a hollowed‑out propeller shaft, christening the upgraded machine “Magic Machine,” with which he added two more victories.

The final chapter of Guynemer’s story unfolded on 11 September 1917, when he was seen attacking an Aviatik near Poelcapelle, northwest of Ypres. A week later, a London newspaper reported him missing in action, while a German publication claimed that Kurt Wissemann of Jasta 3 had shot him down. His body was never recovered, and for months the French public refused to accept his death. Nonetheless, his official tally stood at 54 confirmed kills, cementing his status as France’s Ace of Aces.

8 Eddie Rickenbacker

Edward Vernon Rickenbacker entered the world on 8 October 1890 in Columbus, Ohio, and by the time the United States joined the war in 1917, he was a celebrated race‑car driver earning roughly $40,000 annually. Despite being 27—beyond the age limit for pilot training—Rickenbacker’s reputation as a daring driver earned him a spot as a driver for Colonel William “Billy” Mitchell. He persistently begged Mitchell for a chance to fly, eventually falsifying his age to meet the 25‑year requirement.

After an intense 17‑day stint as a student pilot, Rickenbacker was commissioned a lieutenant and posted to the 94th Aero Squadron. The squadron’s members, many Ivy League graduates, initially looked down on him for lacking a college degree, but Rickenbacker’s grit quickly silenced the snobbery. He overcame a fear of flying and a distaste for aerobatics, crafting a unique combat style that emphasized closing in on foes before opening fire. His first triumph came on 29 April 1918, a shared victory with Captain James Norman Hall, followed by his inaugural solo kill eight days later.

Rickenbacker’s daring reached a crescendo when he engaged seven German aircraft, downing two before slipping away—a feat that earned him the French Croix de Guerre and the United States Medal of Honor. By war’s end, he was celebrated as America’s Ace of Aces with 26 victories. Though he never crashed during combat, he survived two post‑war crashes in 1941 and 1942; the latter left him and his companions adrift for over 20 days. He passed away at 83 in Zurich, Switzerland.

7 William Bishop

William Bishop was born on 8 February 1894 in Owen Sound, Ontario, and attended the Royal Military College, where he enlisted during his senior year as World War I erupted. His equestrian background earned him a posting with the Canadian Mounted Rifles in London in June 1915. A chance sighting of an aircraft in a nearby field that July sparked an obsession with flying, prompting his transfer to the British Royal Flying Corps in December 1915 and the acquisition of his pilot’s licence in 1917.

Bishop’s first dogfight victory came on 25 March 1917, when he shot down a German Albatross. Within the next two months, he added another 21 kills. His most celebrated feat occurred on 2 June 1917, when he single‑handedly assaulted a German aerodrome at Arras, an action that earned him the Victoria Cross. He also received the Distinguished Service Order and the Military Cross for earlier exploits.

In 1918 Bishop took command of No. 85 Squadron—nicknamed the “Flying Foxes”—and led them on the French front. By June 1918 he had accumulated over 70 victories, including an astonishing five German aircraft in just 12 minutes on 19 June, for which he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross. After the war he toured giving speeches about his aerial adventures, and during World II he promoted the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan. Controversy later surrounded his Victoria Cross claim, with some historians questioning the veracity of the raid and noting missing wartime documents. Near the end of his life Bishop admitted that some of his stories were likely embellished, yet he remains recognized as one of the war’s premier aces. He died on 8 November 1956 in Florida.

6 Rene Fonck

Rene Fonck, born 27 March 1894 in France, entered the French army in 1914 and began flight training the following year. He earned his first aerial victory on 6 August 1916, downing an enemy aircraft over the Western Front. Though not a flamboyant flyer, Fonck proved to be an exceptionally efficient shooter, famed for his disciplined ammunition use and his reluctance to gamble recklessly.

One of his most memorable exploits unfolded on 9 May 1918, when he shot down six German aircraft over Montdidier—a feat he would repeat later. By war’s end Fonck had amassed 75 confirmed kills, just five shy of the Red Baron’s record, making him the most successful surviving Allied fighter pilot. He claimed even more victories—over 50—beyond official tallies, underscoring his extraordinary skill.

Despite being France’s Ace of Aces, Fonck’s fame was eclipsed by Georges Guynemer’s legendary status. Unperturbed, Fonck boasted that his proudest moment was avenging Guynemer by defeating Captain Kurt Wissemann, the pilot credited with Guynemer’s death. After the war he worked as a racing and demonstration pilot, later serving as an inspector of fighter aviation for the French Air Force. He passed away in June 1953 at the age of 59.

5 James McCudden

James McCudden was born on 28 March 1895 into a British military family and followed his father’s footsteps by joining the Royal Engineers in 1910. After training as a mechanic, he transferred to the Royal Flying Corps in 1913. He earned his pilot’s wings in 1916 and was dispatched to France as a sergeant, scoring his first kill in September of that year.

McCudden quickly earned a reputation as a skilled tactician and a protective mentor to younger pilots. In 1917 he received both the Military Medal (as a non‑commissioned officer) and the Military Cross after his commission. His heroics peaked in December 1917 when he single‑handedly shot down two of eight enemy aircraft his patrol engaged, followed by another two the next morning. These daring actions formed the core of the citation for his Victoria Cross, awarded in April 1918.

Tragically, on 9 July 1918 McCudden’s aircraft suffered an engine failure, leading to a fatal crash. By that point he had accumulated 57 confirmed victories and a host of decorations, including the Distinguished Service Order and a bar to his Military Cross, cementing his legacy as one of the war’s most decorated combatants.

4 Andrew Beauchamp‑Proctor

Andrew Beauchamp‑Proctor entered the world on 4 September 1894 in South Africa’s Cape Province. While studying engineering at the University of Cape Town, World War I broke out, prompting him to abandon his studies and enlist. He first served as a signaler with the Duke of Edinburgh’s Own Rifles in South‑West Africa before joining the Royal Flying Corps in March 1917.

Standing a modest 157 cm (5 ft 2 in), Proctor had to modify his seat to reach the controls of his aircraft. Assigned to 84 Squadron in July 1917, his early career was rocky—he crash‑landed three times before finally securing his first kill on 3 January 1918, downing a German two‑seat. By May 1918 he had amassed 21 victories, including a spectacular day on 19 May when he shot down five enemy aircraft.

Proctor soon shifted his focus to balloon busting, a perilous task that involved attacking heavily defended observation balloons. He achieved a record nine balloon kills in a single day on 9 August 1918, solidifying his reputation as the RFC’s premier balloon buster. By war’s end he had tallied 54 confirmed victories—38 aircraft and 16 balloons—making him South Africa’s highest‑scoring ace. His decorations included the Military Cross, Distinguished Service Order, Distinguished Flying Cross, and the Victoria Cross.

Tragically, on 21 June 1921, while preparing for an air show at RAF Hendon, Proctor’s aircraft crashed, killing him at just 26 years old. His body was returned to South Africa for a state funeral.

3 Robert A. Little

Robert Alexander Little was born on 19 July 1895 in Melbourne, Australia. After being turned away by the Point Cook Military Flying School, he eventually earned his flying certificate and joined the Royal Naval Air Service in England in 1915. By June 1916 he was posted to Dunkirk, and in October that year he became a member of the 8th Naval Squadron, flying the nimble Sopwith Pup.

Little’s first aerial victory arrived on 1 November 1916, and he added two more by year‑end. March 1917 saw him down nine enemy aircraft, earning a promotion to flight lieutenant the following month. The squadron later upgraded to Sopwith Triplanes and subsequently to Sopwith Camels. Nicknamed “Rikki” after the mongoose in Rudyard Kipling’s tales, Little amassed 37 victories by August 1917, garnering the Distinguished Service Cross with a bar, the French Croix de Guerre, and the Distinguished Service Order (with a bar added in September 1917). He became flight commander in January 1918.

Although a superb shooter, Little was a notoriously poor pilot, often crash‑landing his aircraft. In March 1918 he transferred to 203 Squadron, but his career was cut short on 21 May 1918 when he was mortally wounded in the groin while attempting to intercept a formation of German bombers. He died with an official tally of 47 victories, making him Australia’s top‑scoring ace of the war.

2 Raymond Collishaw

Raymond Collishaw was born in 1893 in Nanaimo, British Columbia, and entered the Royal Naval Air Service as a probationary flight sub‑lieutenant in January 1916. He secured his first victory in October of that year, downing future German ace Ludwig Hanstein.

One of Collishaw’s most harrowing experiences occurred late in 1916 when six German aircraft attacked him. Bullets ripped through his instrument panel and shattered his goggles, leaving him partially blind. Despite the chaos, he managed to evade the first attacker, which crashed into trees, and then shot down the second. Barely able to see and without instruments, he crash‑landed in a field, only to discover he was in enemy territory. Undeterred, he promptly took off again and later touched down in a French field near Verdun, an act that earned him the Croix de Guerre.

Promoted to flight commander with the 10th Naval Squadron in 1917, Collishaw led the famed “Black Flight,” a group of five Canadian pilots who painted their Sopwith Triplanes black and became notorious on the Ypres front. The squadron repeatedly challenged the Richthofen Circus, even engaging the Red Baron’s unit on occasion. After the Black Flight disbanded in July 1917, Collishaw’s tally stood at 37 victories. He later commanded the 13th Naval Squadron and the 203 Squadron of the Royal Air Force, finishing the war with 62 victories—only Billy Bishop and Edward Mannock eclipsed his total. Unlike many peers, Collishaw stayed in the RAF after the war, leading British forces against the Bolsheviks in Russia and commanding Allied air forces in North Africa during World II. Though twice nominated for the Victoria Cross, he never received it. He passed away in 1976 at age 82, and in 1999 Nanaimo’s airport terminal was named in his honour.

1 Edward ‘Mick’ Mannock

When World War I erupted in 1914, 27‑year‑old Edward “Mick” Mannock was employed by a telephone company in Turkey. After Turkey entered the war on Germany’s side, Mannock and his colleagues were imprisoned, and following a failed escape attempt he endured solitary confinement, which gradually eroded his health. The American consulate managed to secure his release in April 1915, and he returned to Britain with a deep‑seated hatred for the Germans.

Back home, Mannock joined the Royal Army Medical Corps as a sergeant, tasked with treating enemy prisoners—a duty that conflicted with his bitter experiences in Turkey. Eventually he transferred to the Royal Flying Corps, being posted to 40 Squadron at Treizennes in April 1917. Initially regarded as a coward and a know‑it‑all by his peers, his reputation shifted dramatically as he began shooting down German aircraft.

Despite his animosity toward the enemy, Mannock occasionally displayed unexpected compassion. On one occasion he examined the wreckage of a German plane he had downed, feeling like a murderer. Such moments took a psychological toll; he was observed trembling and even weeping during leaves. Nonetheless, he pressed on, and within a year of his first kill he amassed 73 victories, becoming Britain’s most successful pilot. He earned the Military Cross (with a bar), the Distinguished Service Order (with two bars), and numerous other decorations.

On 26 July 1918 Mannock achieved his final victory but, in a fatal miscalculation, descended too low to observe the downed aircraft. German ground fire struck his plane, and he crashed. Earlier he had confided that his greatest fear was to burn to death in a fireball without a parachute, so he kept a revolver in his cockpit. Whether he used it in his final moments remains unknown. His death cemented his place as the most decorated and highest‑scoring British fighter pilot of the war.

Aerial bombardments; labor shortages; and insufficient food, materials, and natural resources were only some of the hardships that men, women, and children faced on the home front during World War II. The devastation of The Great War meant that everyone must do their part, regardless of sex, age, or location.

Back home, ordinary citizens rose to the occasion, their heroic sacrifices and labor on behalf of the Allied nations’ fighters helping their military men and women win the long, hard-fought war against the Axis powers. Without a doubt, the valiant, patriotic contributions of such workers as Land Girls, Lumber Jills, and Factory Girls helped the Allies to win the war.

Unfortunately, there were also undesirable changes on—and to—the home front. Without a doubt, World War II changed the home front, sometimes temporarily, other times permanently, for both good and ill.

While it would take a library to fully document all these changes in detail, this list of ten ways WWII changed the home front provides a glimpse into some of the major transformations that resulted from this devastating global conflict.

10 Aerial Bombardment

The aerial bombardment campaign that the German air force, or Luftwaffe, conducted against the United Kingdom and other countries began at the outset of World War II in 1939 and continued until the end of the global conflict in 1945. For these six years, the Luftwaffe more or less continuously bombed London, dropping both heavy explosives and incendiary devices night after night.

The seemingly endless onslaught was directed at many other British towns as well, including some of the most beautiful cities in England, the Luftwaffe adding rocket attacks to their arsenal during the last two years of the war. The potential number of victims was massive. London itself was home to eight million, but this number swelled to ten million when the population was counted as including the city’s greater metropolitan area.

An observer described the sight of “hundreds of” incoming Luftwaffe bombers as a swarm that was “amazing, impressive, [and] riveting,” filling the sky above and resembling “bees around their queen.”

The city’s East End docks and Central, West, and South London came under successive bombardments, followed by aerial assaults on the suburbs. Neither people, their homes, nor the city’s most beloved architectural masterpieces were spared, including Buckingham Palace, which was struck sixteen times, and the Palace of Westminster, which endured fourteen such attacks during the Blitz of 1940-1941. London’s historic churches and cathedrals were bombed, too, sustaining serious damages. The Luftwaffe also carried out extensive air attacks on rural targets.^[1]

9 All-American Girls Professional Baseball League Players Association

Although President Franklin D. Roosevelt supported the continuation of Major League Baseball after the United States entered World War II in 1941, there was a problem. The players were trading their baseball uniforms for those of their country’s fighting forces. In 1943, chewing gum magnate Philip K. Wrigley, who owned the Chicago Cubs, came to the rescue, founding the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League Players Association.

Wrigley considered the all-women’s league a temporary wartime measure, certain that it would disband when the conflict ended. Instead, the all-women’s league continued drawing crowds, with more than 900,000 fans attending the 1948 season. The league didn’t disband until 1954, ending a twelve-year run that featured over 500 players and later inspired the 1992 all-star movie A League of Their Own, starring Tom Hanks, Geena Davis, and Madonna, among others.^[2]

8 Blackouts

Blackouts were simple but effective defenses against aerial bombardment, preventing the pilots of enemy aircraft from discerning targets due to seeing vehicles’ headlights, streetlights, residential lighting, or, as an archived website’s article adds, even “the red glow of a cigarette.”

In England, lights were banned—period. This resulted in an entire city or coastline being plunged into darkness. Prior to the war, Britain’s Air Ministry had predicted that the UK would be subjected to “sudden air attacks,” resulting in many casualties and massive “destruction from enemy night bombers.” Without ground lights, however, the pilots of such aircraft would find both navigation and target acquisition difficult. And the nation’s Air Raid Patrol called on every citizen to help ensure blackout regulations were properly enforced.

Driving at night without the benefit of headlights proved “confusing, frightening, and dangerous.” Accidents increased, as did drownings when drivers drove off bridges. In one case, after a passenger, mistaking an unscheduled stop for his arrival at a station, stepped off a train, he fell eighty feet into a viaduct, ending up in the hospital.

Another downside to blackouts was an increase in crime as pickpockets and thieves took advantage of the darkness, although the increase was not as drastic as some believed, since criminals feared that, should they break into a house, they might come face to face with the resident.

In the United States and other countries, similar blackout restrictions were enforced until, in April 1945, these measures were finally rescinded for good.^[3]

7 Bomb Shelters

In Britain, underground bomb shelters offered protection against aerial bombardment. For example, an Anderson shelter (named in honor of Home Secretary Sir John Anderson) was essentially a corrugated iron shed, measuring 6ft 6in x 4ft 6in (2m x 1.4m). The government ordered a total of 2,500,000 of them. Although only 100,000 were sold, each of them was effective in protecting up to as many as six adults, and many families survived in their Anderson shelters while their homes were flattened.

Although they protected the people inside, these shelters weren’t comfortable—or comforting, for that matter. Cramped underground spaces, they were not soundproof, a fact that tended to amplify the terrible din of an air raid: the “whistle of falling bombs, the canon fire of RAF fighters, and the thunderous booming of British guns.” In addition, public shelters, some constructed in parks, were made available.

Larger public shelters could pose dangers to those who sought refuge in them. During a mass exodus from the streets into an Underground station shelter, when a woman tripped on the stairs, 173 people were killed, and more than 60 were injured in the crush that followed.^[4]

6 Censorship

On December 7, 1941, the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service attacked Pearl Harbor. Twelve days later, President Roosevelt created the Office of Censorship, authorizing the editing or suppression of “any message entering or leaving the United States by mail, cable, or radio.” The government’s domestic censorship policy remained in effect until the Japanese surrendered on August 15, 1945. Government censorship also occurred in other countries, including Canada, under its War Information Board directives and guidance.

Although some censorship appears to have been petty and arbitrary, other censored material was significant, such as news concerning the development of the atomic bomb. According to the Office of Censorship’s director, Byron Price, the news media voluntarily agreed to stifle themselves for the good of the country. However, in the words of the Lawrence, Kansas, Daily Journal-World, Price admitted that “there were some [minor] leaks,” the director believing that they were probably “not deliberate.” In all, Price was satisfied that “the long work on the atomic bomb was the best-kept single secret of the war.”^[5]

5 Propaganda

During World War II, propaganda took many forms, including those in films, on posters, and even, oddly enough, in comic books. As Paul S. Hirsh points out in Pulp Fiction: The Secret History of Comic Book Imperialism, comic books, which are visually oriented, easy to read, and exciting, if unsophisticated, were widely read among both soldiers and civilians.

For this reason, among others, such publications attracted the attention of the Writers War Board as a potent means of delivering propaganda. Providing propaganda favorable to the war effort was regarded as a win-win situation by comic book companies, too, whose executives could demonstrate their patriotic credentials while gaining millions of new readers.

One such heroic soldier was DC Comics’ Sgt. Rock, who was described as carrying on the tradition of serving his country by enlisting at the rank of private in the early days of World War II. He then occupied the “same mythical space for enlisted men” as that of Marvel Comics’ Captain America, who epitomized the “officer who could protect you during the war.”

Indeed, on the March 1941 cover of Captain America Comics, the hero in the red-white-and-blue costume is shown punching Adolf Hitler. As Marvel’s editor Stan Lee himself pointed out, just before World War II began, “many of our super heroes, especially Captain America, the Human Torch, and the Sub-Mariner, were already fighting Hitler and the Nazis.”^[6]

4 Factory Girls and Military Auxiliaries and Reservists

In addition to his being a misanthropic madman, Hitler was also quite sexist. As the National World War II Museum website points out, the Führer believed that women’s proper places were the home and the maternity ward: “The role of German women,” he said, “was to be good wives and mothers and to have more babies for the Third Reich.”

On the home front, American women took over the factory jobs that the nation’s men had done prior to joining the military. Not only did women continue to maintain their homes and rear their children, but they also took on jobs in defense plants and volunteered for war-related organizations. Some of them even served aboard trolleys as “conducterettes.”

Nor did these roles define the limits of women’s capabilities. According to Stephen Ambrose, author of D Day, they also “managed the finances and learned to fix the car.” In addition, they served in the auxiliaries or reserves of the U.S. Army, Navy, Marine Corps, and Coast Guard, performing the jobs of clerks, truck drivers, aircraft mechanics, lab technicians, parachute riggers, radio operators, photography analysts, military pilots, test pilots, and training assistants.

Although they did not perform combat roles, they did serve as nurses near the front lines, and 16 were killed by direct enemy fire, while 68 were captured as POWs in the Philippines. General Dwight D. Eisenhower attributed the Allies’ success against the Axis powers in part to the valiant efforts of American women, without whose assistance, he suggested, the war might well have had a different outcome.^[7]

7 Land Girls

As John Christopher and Campbell McCutcheon point out in The Second World War in Photographs 1939, with so many men gone to war, the UK was short on farm labor. A call for volunteers, whose numbers would later be bolstered by “conscripts,” resulted in a corps of 80,000 “Land Girls,” as the substitute workers were popularly known.

Although initially, they were not universally appreciated, their hard work won over their detractors. The women proved themselves adept at driving tractors, thatching, sharpening “wooden stakes for fencing, and packing sugar beet into a silo.”^[8]

2 Lumber Jills

One of the ways in which women in the UK aided the war effort was to serve as substitutes for lumberjacks who’d enlisted in the military. Known informally as “Lumber Jills,” these members of the Women’s Timber Corps, established in 1942 as a branch of the Land Army, felled and measured trees, loaded lumber aboard trucks, and drove vehicles. Their effort was crucial in helping to supply timber to wartime industries.

Although their hours were a bit shorter than those of the Land Girls, the workdays were plenty long enough, lasting from 7:00 am to 4:30 pm. Their shorter hours, as compared to those of Land Girls, made some think Lumber Jills had it easier than Land Girls. Still, the fact that Lumber Jills had to pass a stricter medical examination than Land Girls did suggests otherwise, as does an interview with Lumber Jill Joy Smith.

In February 1943, Smith entered the Women’s Timber Corps at age eighteen. During her training at Culford Camp, she lived in a Litton hut and learned to “wield an ax” and a crosscut saw, to operate a buzz saw, to fell trees and cut them into four-foot lengths, and to load the cut section onto “lorries.” After training, she and the other Lumber Jills were deployed to various parts of the UK—where they were housed with local families—to perform logging operations.^[9]

1 Japanese Internment Camps

Probably the most horrendous change that occurred to the home front as a result of World War II was the establishment of Japanese internment camps in the United States, Canada, and Australia. President Roosevelt’s Executive Order 9066, signed in February 1942, authorized the removal of individuals from military areas “as deemed necessary or desirable,” notes Rachel A. Bailey, author of The Japanese Internment Camps. The meaning of military areas was vague, which might have helped the entire West Coast to be defined as one.

Bailey gives a harrowing, first-person account of how her own family was forced to vacate their residence. Her mother had expected such an occasion to occur, Bailey writes, and had sold the family’s belongings, including books, toys, linens, and even their “dog, for next to nothing.”

When the notice to vacate arrived, the family was put on a bus and taken to the Owens Valley Reception Station (later Manzanar) and permitted to bring with them only that which they could carry, usually only duffel bags stuffed with their belongings. The family was identified by the number attached to their bags. The center at which they would be held consisted of 36 blocks, each containing 14 barracks, surrounded by desolate desert.

Their cramped apartment was equipped with “a lone light bulb” hanging from the ceiling and “eight army cots with mattresses stuffed with straw and blankets.” There was no private bathroom, only communal toilets in a separate barracks. The families took their meals in the camp’s mess hall.

A map depicting the layout of the camp to which Bailey and her family were sent shows a hospital, an orphanage, a department store, a Catholic church, a music hall, a Buddhist church, an outdoor theater, a fire station, a judo dojo, a Protestant church, an auditorium, a police station, a sentry house, a town hall, a post office, staff housing, camp facility buildings, garages, picnic grounds and, at intervals along all four walls enclosing the camp, guard towers, all compacted into an area about a mile wide by a mile-and-a-half long (1.6 kilometers by 2.4 kilometers).

Besides California’s Owens Valley, or Manzanar, and Tule Lake, there were nine other camps scattered over various other states.

Under the authority of the War Measures Act, the Canadian government, beginning in 1942, “detained and dispossessed more than 90 percent of Japanese Canadians” for the duration of World War II, seizing and selling the detainees’ homes and businesses to pay for their detention. Detainees were allowed only the belongings they could carry and were detained in camps in various locations across the country or, in some cases, allowed to work on sugar beet farms, where they would be able to “keep their families intact.” Conditions were grim, characterized by overcrowding, a lack of electricity, and running water.

On May 9, 1941, the Australian War Cabinet decreed that, should the country be drawn into the war, “all Japanese males over 16” who lived in Australia or Australian territories “would be interned.” And when hostilities occurred in December, very few first- or second-generation Japanese escaped internment in Australia’s Wartime Internment Camps, including “even elderly people in nursing homes.”^[10]