Today’s collection of ads shows some of the faraway locations that soldiers were sent in the war, as well as how they returned. Many soldiers utilized the railroads to get to their ship-out points, and likewise many used it to get back home at the end of their service. As veterans returned from the front injured, specially designed Pullman hospital cars were used to transport them. Medical transportation by air was still a rarity, so the railroads played quite an important role in moving the wounded.

A typical hospital “ward car” had room for around 30–36 patients in double berths, and was often paired with a hospital “unit car” which contained a dressing room, a kitchen, as well as quarters for an officer and the cook. The total number of patient beds depended on how much space in the car was devoted to other necessities, such as a mobile surgery that included an operating table, supply cabinets, and sterilization equipment. Hospital cars were designed to be a bit more pleasant than the cramped troop transport cars, offering amenities like air conditioning, and little bit more space, necessary to accommodate soldiers on stretchers.

After the war some hospital cars were converted to standard passenger cars or sleepers, and others were sold to the circus. About half of the fleet was kept in reserve in case of another conflict, and some of these were ultimately sent to Korea for that war, while others were scrapped.

As a graphic designer, advertisements have always captured my interest. Wartime advertisements are something that have appeared on the blog before, with this post about the New York Central’s war ads. Although almost, if not all, of the American railroads published ads depicting their contributions to the war effort, there is a particular rail-related company that has a massive body of work when it comes to wartime ads which is rather impressive.

The Pullman Company, most notably known for their sleeping cars and porters, was extremely active during World War II. Despite being broken up in 1944 due to an antitrust case, Pullman advertised throughout the entirety of the war, often promoting the fact that their cars were one of the primary means of transportation for soldiers to get to their ship-out points, and later for their returns home.

Other advertisements asked the public to either refrain from riding trains or in sleeper cars unless absolutely necessary (at one point sleepers were restricted from operating over routes under 450 miles, yet public ridership was also up due to the rationing of gasoline), or to make sure that if unable to make their reservation they don’t just no-show, but cancel in advance so no space is left unfilled. In one case, an ad shows a furloughed soldier stuck in a station unable to return home to see the birth of his child as the train was sold out. Thankfully, someone cancelled their reservation last minute, allowing the soldier to return home. Another ad asks whether a soldier will make it to his own wedding, complete with a picture of an exasperated bride. This soldier likewise waits for a last minute cancellation on a sold-out train. My favorites, however, may be the ads containing the corny catchphrase, “Sleep Going to Keep Going.”

At the outset of the war troops moved in the standard Pullman sleepers that had been serving the general public prior. Eventually new sleepers were produced, devoted solely to troop transport. Riding the train as a soldier could be quite a claustrophobic experience—the New York Central operated cars with three-tiered foldable bunks, accommodating a total of 39 men. Besides the soldiers, additional riders may have included a higher-ranking military man designated as the “Train Commander,” a Pullman porter, or a railroad employee operating as an escort and liaison to the Commander. Another car operating as a field kitchen served three or four troop transport cars—initially out of baggage cars converted for that purpose, and later in specially designed troop kitchen cars.

As part of my collection of advertisements and timetables, I have a rather large assortment of Pullman ads—large enough to split it into multiple posts. Enjoy a little look back with the first part of my collection of digitally-restored Pullman advertisements below.

Dedication of the “New York Central System” bomber, attended by railroad president Frederick Williamson (left). Photo from the October 1942 issue of the Central Headlight.

The first New York Central-sponsored plane. Photo courtesy b26.com.

The New York Central’s first twin-engine bomber, named simply “The New York Central System” was purchased with the funds raised by the railroad and its employees – $170,062.06 in total, money delivered on April 2, 1942 to the US Treasury. The idea was conceived by the employees of the Electric Locomotive shop in Collinwood, Ohio, who proposed small paycheck deductions from willing participants in order to fund the purchase. Nearly 90% of the Central’s workforce donated to this and other wartime fundraisers. Sadly, the bomber was shot down in February 1943 over North Africa after only 13 missions. However, determined railroad employees decided to raise further funds and purchased a replacement bomber, which was named the “New York Central II.” Though it was not unheard of for a group to sponsor a plane, this was the first time a group had come together a second time to purchase a replacement after the first’s loss.

The “New York Central II” – ground crew member and furloughed New York Central employee Anthony Gibbs is at left.

New York Central II crew briefing. Photo courtesy b26.com.

The replacement bomber had a far longer history, running 103 missions before being shot down. Updates on its status were frequently sent and published in the railroad’s magazine by Anthony Gibbs, furloughed NYC employee and member of the ground crew that serviced the bomber (he was also the son of John Gibbs, an electrician at Harmon). The New York Central II’s first mission was over Italy as part of the Battle of Monte Cassino, and her last was over Winnweiler, Germany on January 1st, 1945 after being shot down by anti-aircraft fire. In total, the New York Central II flew 410 operational combat hours, and dropped 322,000 pounds of bombs on Axis targets across Italy, France, and Germany.

Illustration of the “New York Central II” by Mark Styling. The runaway train is an embellishment by the artist.

Witnesses that saw the shoot-down of the plane also saw at least four crew members bail out, and thus it was hoped that at least some of the crew had survived.

I first observed plane no. 68 when fire broke out on the left side of the ship, while the plane was still in the formation. It broke away to the left of the formation in a gradual glide. I saw two men leave the rear of the plane in rapid succession while the plane was at 10,000 feet just after it broke formation. Then seconds later a third man left the rear of the ship at an altitude of about 10,000 feet. Five seconds later a 4th man left the ship. I observed flame in front of this man when he bailed out but I cannot say if his chute was afire or not, or just what was burning. The flame lasted for 3 or 4 seconds and went out, after which time I lost sight of the ship and the 4 men who bailed out. I only observed the chutes of the first two men who bailed out to open. The last two I did not observe.

The plane stayed in a dive until it reached an altitude of about 3000 feet. At this altitude the plane went into a steep dive and spiraled to the ground. At 1300 hours the plane crashed at Fischbach near Pirmasens.

–Statement from 2nd Lt Joseph H. Herbert, Air Corps, 37th Bomb Squadron

 

Pilot Joseph Thomas Schoeps and Co-Pilot Hugh S. Teitsworth, Jr. were both killed, along with bombardier Camillo W. Tensi, and navigators Edward J. Purdy and Thomas F. Rawson. Schoeps was eventually laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery, Teitsworth, Purdy, and Rawson were buried in the Lorraine American Cemetery in France. Engineer Gunner Arlyn L. Lones survived the crash, but was immediately executed by the Nazis upon landing. He was buried in Andrew Johnson National Cemetery, in Greeneville, TN. Radio Gunner Jimmie A. Reesha and Armorer Gunner Gerald R. Draper both survived and were brought to POW camps.

Draper was held for over a year, originally at Stalag Luft 3 but was later marched west after that camp’s impending liberation. Reesha was held for several months at Stalag XIII-D, until it was liberated by the US Army. Both men lived long lives after their service, passing away in 2006 and 1997, respectively. Whether they rode the New York Central’s trains after their return remains unknown.

Missing Air Crew Report for the New York Central II

Special thanks to CanadaSouthern.com, whose archive of New York Central Headlight magazines was integral to the research on this subject.

Back in 1907, as is quite obvious, there were no GPSes, thus people had to rely on maps and booklets, like the one I am about to post, to find their way around. But Emily, you say, a historic guide on how to navigate by car from New York City to Poughkeepsie has absolutely nothing to do with trains! Albeit true, the guide is nonetheless has a cursory relation to trains, in that it offers you a glimpse into the mindset of travel in the early 1900’s. Roads, quite frankly, are something we all take for granted (you didn’t build that!). Prior to World War Two, the roads in this country (especially for long distance and intercity) were hardly spectacular. That was certainly a factor in the popularity of railroads at the time. It wasn’t until cars became more common, and roads became far better, that trains lost their status as our preferred mode of transportation.

In all honesty, I never knew that booklets like this – showing turn by turn photographic instructions on where to drive – actually existed until I had discovered this. Since we’ve been covering the Hudson Line the past few months, I figured it was somewhat relevant, as this journey by car parallels both the Hudson River and the railroad, traveling from New York to Poughkeepsie. In some of the turn by turn photographs you can even see what are likely trolley tracks, something you definitely won’t see today. At minimum, it is an interesting look into the past!

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

What a quaint little drive you just enjoyed! Of course, the fun part is trying to find what each of those places looks like today. Here’s one comparison:

A lot has changed in the past 100 years, huh?

At least a year ago, maybe even longer, when I first became interested in railroad timetables, I made a little poster showing some of the New York Central’s system timetables over the years. I had just begun to appreciate the functional art that is a timetable, and the little portion of me that endured many art history classes began connecting the stylistic choices with the events of the time. And probably just like every paper I wrote for an art history class, it was comprised of complete and utter bullshit. It seemed to make sense at the time, at least I think it did. Maybe it makes some sense. Hell, maybe it makes complete sense, and logically explains why there were so many stylistic changes on the timetables over the years. I had every intention of posting it, after it was completed. After I, I don’t know, verified some of the grandiose claims that I made? But I never did that. And this sat. And sat. And sat some more, in the dark little recesses of my hard drive, covered in spiderwebs, with crickets chirping merely to hear their own voices, out of complete and utter loneliness.

Today, however, I am crazy enough to post this, mostly because the former project, which I had high hopes for, was calling out to me for some reason. It wants the chance to see the light of day. I doubt I’ll ever do anything with this beyond this post, but if there are any other art-slash-rail-history folks out there that would like to discuss this, I might enjoy that.

But how does Amtrak work? I’ve only been on Amtrak twice, going to Florida and back with my grandmother that has a minor phobia of planes. I’ve thought of taking the Lake Shore Limited to Chicago, but that is only because I like trains, and I think it would be cool to ride what was once known as “The Water Level Route.” But other than having a phobia of planes, and being a railfan, why would I want to take Amtrak? Searching up prices, I can get a round trip flight to Orlando for July 4th for $193. That ride takes two and a half hours. Or, with Amtrak, I could ride for twenty-two hours, and pay a whopping $423. Why would anyone want to pay more than double for a trip that takes more than seven times as long? In Japan I took the bullet train to Kyoto, which in terms of time and price is very close to flying. Close enough to compete, anyways. But then that just goes back to the usual argument that the US wanted their Interstate System, while other countries, especially Japan, concentrated on rail.

That sort of demonstrates my mind-set when I think about trains. There are some times when I read about their history, that I am completely and utterly baffled by how important they once were. Rail was the way that products and people were transported. And during World War II, trains were an integral part of the war effort. The New York Central operated personnel trains, mail trains, equipment freight, and even hospital trains. An average of two million troops per month were transported over the NY Central system during WW2. I always love looking at old advertisements, so today I have a collection of old New York Central magazine advertisements from the war years. Each advertisement depicts a different scene or use for the wartime trains: from riding the 20th Century Limited, to troop trains, to the fully equipped surgery suite on an army hospital train.

It is interesting to note that part of the reason why we have the Interstate System today can be attributed to the war. President Eisenhower pushed for the Interstate System, especially after experiencing the German autobahn while he served in World War II. He had also been associated with the Transcontinental Motor Convoy which drove from Washington DC to San Francisco, and took sixty-two days. That sort of puts it in perspective, how roads in between cities were back then. Today if you drove non-stop and managed to avoid traffic, you could drive that in two days. Sixty-two days, no wonder why people took the train!