I slid into the passenger's seat of his new red 1962 VW and we set out for the 6th arrondissement in Paris. He eased into the traffic, quickly adapting to the French method of survival driving as a slight motocyclette carrying a bouffant-haired, mini-skirted femme, perched sidesaddle and plastered bosom-to-back to whoever was in front, darted around us. He pointed to the small, recently published, book between us.
“Take a look at what I'm reading; just read the first page.”
As the opening sentence warned, “It was love at first sight.”
A few days later he loaned it to me with a bit of a grin saying, “I think this might be your Dad's World War II outfit.” And there began my lengthy on-again, off-again journey with the phenomenal Catch-22.
I came from a military family — actually, generations of military family — and my older sister, Sue, and I grew up with its expectations, inconveniences, privileges, and responsibilities. From my earliest memories the effects of WWII have been a part of my life. I can remember toying with my food and Dad, zeroing in on me with spoon raised high, saying “Bombs away!” or “Open the bomb bay!” or “Down the hatch!” Having been alive a mere four years, I was clueless to the phrases, of course, but I knew the expectations: Open wide and the food will make a direct hit.
Over the years I have absorbed, almost by osmosis, stories and accounts by my father, final commander during World War II of the 340th Bomb Group, a senior pilot, a rated navigator, a rated bombardier, and an observer. Upon undertaking this book, I sifted through his copious, museum-worthy war materials; much of it formerly classified Secret. I interviewed the men involved in the now-famous 340th Bomb Group depicted in Catch-22, published by Simon & Schuster, 1961, especially those from Heller's 488th squadron. I went to reunions and I read and listened to first-person story after story. I corresponded with Joseph Heller. I learned a great deal as the years passed.
The 340th Bomb Group was comprised of four squadrons: the 486th, 487th, 488th, and 489th. This group, in turn, was one of three that came under the command of the 57 th Bomb Wing, a wing that was, in a few short years, to be the recipient of unexpected notoriety due solely to one unnoticed bombardier.
This bombardier, Lieutenant Joseph Heller, had joined the 340th, which was based in Corsica, in May 1944, just two months after my father, Col. Willis F. (Bill) Chapman, became its last commander. Four days later, nineteen-year-old Heller, a combat replacement, was assigned to his first mission as a wing bombardier. From this moment in his young life until the war ended sixteen months later, Heller was immersed in the demands of this deadly conflict.
In 1944, as the Allied Forces in Italy pressed toward the war's European resolution, the US 488th Bomb Squadron kept doggedly to its mission. The lives of these men of the 488th were following the dictates of the war; there was information to absorb, skills to learn and hone, mind-sets to adjust, fears to conquer, and, of course, missions to fly.
What they were unaware of was that, as they focused on their daily lives, one of their members was focusing upon them. He was absorbing a different type of information; information that was to serve him well years after the war had claimed its last son and daughter. Keeping all of his senses alert to his surroundings, 488th bombardier Joe Heller was absorbing impressions that would later astonish the literary world when he penned a phenomenal novel that exploded across the planet in the 1960s. Welcome, world, to Catch-22!
What had begun harmlessly enough with a young man's eagerness to experience heroic adventures far too quickly matured for Heller into the never-to-be-forgotten, life-altering experiences only war can create. He was a good soldier; he did as he was told. He was one of the fortunate who survived the ordeal. And then he shipped home with a wealth of memories — of missions, of crewmates, of experiences.
Nine years later he began to write. This richness of memories, of knowledge that he had absorbed, fueled his pages. In varying degrees his war-mates morphed into wildly factitious characters trapped in the chaos of Catch-22 while deadly missions became . . . well, still, deadly missions.
In most of Heller's interviews he chose to deny similarities between his clever fictional characters and his war-mates; however, in other interviews, he would occasionally admit to basing certain characters on real-life counterparts. But to the men of the 340th, Heller's offspring were instantly recognizable. Aside from their positions and ranks, men were easily identifiable by their descriptions, mannerisms, and traits. In a wild and imaginative frenzy, characters such as the hard-drinking, vengeful, and disillusioned Chief White Half Oat; young, sliced-in-half Kid Sampson; shrieking, frenzied Hungry Joe, and a slew of others blasted skyward from the solid roots of real life bombardier Vincent Myers, pilot Bill Sampson, pilot Joseph Chrenko — and the list goes on. Not only could the origins of various characters be proven, but the origins of actual situations could as well.
As certain as a perfect chicken's egg is able to become a burnt-topped, crème brûlée, slippery-slick and tissue-thin-crisp, so, under chef Joseph Heller's creative spoon, were his crewmates able to be brilliantly remixed and reshaped. Four of these unsuspecting men were to become four of Catch-22's major characters. Witness how true-life George, Bill, Bob, and creator Joe funneled into the loopy, rogue, and ripe-to-bursting factitious personalities of the humble, capable Capt. Wren, the naked-in-the-ranks Lt. Yossarian, the “Black-Eye” or “Feather-in-my-Cap” Col. Cathcart, and the arbitrary, unpredictable Gen. Dreedle.
With the finesse of a Formula One driver, Heller slid, cornered, and shifted characters from fact into fiction throughout the growth of his novel. Major Jerre Cover eased into Major__de Coverly, while Douglas Orr actually retained his own name as he morphed into a new persona. Major Major accelerated into Major Major Major Major, and even the dog, “to protect its identity,” mutated into a cat. The precision of Heller's touch was masterful. But in the end, even though Heller's fully developed characters stand solely, solidly, and uniquely on their own merits, still it must be acknowledged that any resemblance to persons living or dead is, in fact, actual.
The True Story of Catch-22 is divided into thirds. Part I highlights four solid Air Force officers whom Joseph Heller blindsided when he creatively massaged them into four of Catch-22's heavy hitters. But to paraphrase slightly, “Truth is as fascinating as fiction.” Part II brings our actual heroes to life in a wealth of rare and mostly unpublished photos accompanied by 1st person narratives. Lastly, Part III goes to the heart of this book as twelve men of the 340th relate twelve true tales. In miniature, here lies the true story.
The telling of The True Story of Catch-22 is a major responsibility for me, and I here state that, as General William T. Sherman of Civil War renown wrote in his recollections, “Of omissions there are plenty, but of willful perversion of facts, none.”
My regret in this venture is the passing of time. Now nearly all the characters upon whom Heller drew for his masterpiece are gone — Cathcart/ Chapman, Dreedle/Knapp, Piltchard/Dyer, Daneeka/Marino, Havermyer/ Myer, Major Major Major Major/ Major Major, Tappman/Cooper, and the rest. All have passed now.
All but one: Wells/Wren.
It is Captain George L. Wells, an extraordinary pilot, who will accompany me through these pages. From his first mission, October 26, 1943, to his last on March 19, 1945, George kept a small black mission book, now well thumbed. Every one of his historic 102 missions was accurately recorded and, with the regularity of almost daily flights, each of these missions will keep step with the pages of this book.
As familiar as I am with things military, it was, nevertheless, while quietly, privately reading the brief chronological entries in George's mission book, that I received the most profound insight into a bomber pilot's life as it daily unfolded. I could feel this war.
It has now been half a century since Catch-22's publication. Currently, the surviving men of the 57 th Bomb Wing, which was comprised of the 310th, 319th, 321st, and Heller's 340th Bomb Groups, while celebrating at their annual WWII reunions, will still chuckle or grimace, discuss or deride the novel — the book that, no matter whether it had become an American classic, no matter how clever or unique, still had chosen to poke huge fun at a circumstance that took a monumental toll on the lives of these men.
While they acknowledge and can even respect the profound impact of Catch-22, still, it is to a measure at the expense of those who steadily had put their lives on the line, as had Joe Heller, mission after mission, for a cause of such magnitude. They find it difficult to fully embrace the levity even decades after the fact. It is for them that I decided to write The True Story of Catch-22.
— Patricia Chapman Meder
From Joseph W. Ruebel — the seed of Catch-22's Major Danby, the timid, soft-spoken operations officer and former college professor who sees himself as a poor fit for the armed services but does his best for his country:
“If Heller had asked me if I wanted to be in the book I’d say OK. All right, I guess I'm honored to be in it. It was a heck of a good idea. A marvelous idea. Initially the book bothered and irritated me since the facts were so distorted. Now I am more mellow. The more I thought about it the funnier it got.
“I loved that B-25. In the year I was there, there was only one B-25 accident due not to combat. That occurred when the pilot mistook a golf course for the aerodrome.”
From Robert D. Knapp — the seed of Catch-22's General Dreedle, the blunt, ill-tempered old general who knew he was the hammer and everyone else was a nail:
“I have no use for anybody who would take the best Bomb Wing in the world and make caricatures of its men. Anybody can write derogatorily if he wants to. The question is, why would he want to? Those he wrote about were a fine bunch. All earned awards and citations. We had a great outfit. I am proud of all of them.”
From Dorothy Knapp Spain, Robert Knapp's daughter:
“My dad hates the book.”
From George L. Wells — the seed of Catch-22's Captain Wren, the gentle, quiet squadron operations officer who, in tandem with Capt. Pilchard, assigned missions impartially to himself and his crewmates for all to enjoy:
Of course I don't mind being in Catch-22. It has been a plus for me.
In 1993, while working on my house, I was hurt in a bad fall. During the night I got up for a glass of water and fainted. The following morning I was checked into the hospital to be examined for a stroke or heart attack. I went through a battery of tests. One of these involved a visit by the psychiatrist to check for possible brain damage. In his series of questions he asked, “Have you read Catch- 22?” When I replied, “I'm in the book,” his immediate response was, “Well, I HAVE got a nut here!”
From Willis F. Chapman — the seed of Catch-22S Colonel Cathcart, the obsessive, ambitious, mission-raising group commander endowed with indecisiveness and a serious lack of sound judgment:
I remember being somewhat irritated when the book was first published and I don't believe I ever got through it completely. The military, at that time, was so sensitive about presenting the proper image to the American public. They were very, very serious about this. I kind of lost my sense of humor in Heller's version.
I'm not sure I can regard it a high compliment that I am considered the genesis of the character which Heller developed into Col. Cathcart; however, my feelings are very mixed now that it has given my daughter the incentive to write this book, which I think Heller's war-time comrades might enjoy.