Jimmy
Catanach had been a prisoner of war for almost seven months before unburdening
himself to his brother, Bill, on 28 March 1943. It had been a long journey from
Melbourne, where he had been born on 23 November 1921, to Stalag Luft III, Sagan. He had enlisted in the RAAF
when he was 18; was promoted to squadron leader; and had been awarded
a Distinguished Flying Cross for daring raids over Lorient in north-western
France, and the German cities of Cologne, Hamburg, Essen, and Lubeck, all before his 21st birthday.
The most recent stage of his journey to captivity had begun on 4 September 1942.
Numbers 144 and 455
squadrons had been deployed to Russia as part of Operation Orator, to protect a convoy taking vital supplies to Russia: Jimmy
was 455 Squadron’s youngest squadron leader and was lauded as the youngest in
the RAAF. He was a lively, boisterous man, much loved by his crew and squadron
friends. His commanding officer, Grant Lindeman, recalled that, as they were
lined up to depart, ‘Jimmy of course couldn’t restrain himself to wait his turn; he taxied
into the first gap in the line and was off like a blooming rocket’. Lindeman
had ‘never seen such a wealth of superfluous energy in any individual over the
age of twelve as Jimmy constantly had at his disposal. He didn’t drink or
smoke; he talked at an incredible speed; he couldn’t stand still for a second,
but he hopped about all the time you were talking to him till you were nearly
giddy’. In his opinion, Jimmy ‘was a most excellent Flight Commander, and was
probably the most generally liked man in the whole squadron’.
Members of 455 Squadron, August 1942.
L-R: Jack Davenport, Jimmy Catanach, Grant Lindeman, Les Oliver, Bob Holmes. Author's collection
Jimmy was piloting Hampden
AT109, which experienced a great deal of flak as it crossed the Norwegian
coast. He realised they were rapidly losing fuel. Rather than risk the engines
cutting out, he took the first opportunity to land. He touched down safely on a
strip of heather adjoining a beach near Vardo, in northern Norway. Jimmy, his
navigator Flying Officer George ‘Bob’ Anderson, wireless operator/upper gunner
Flight Sergeant Cecil Cameron, lower rear gunner Sergeant John Hayes and their
passenger Flight Sergeant John Davidson, a ground crew fitter, attempted to
destroy the Hampden, but they were fired on by soldiers from one direction and
a patrol boat from the coast. The five were taken prisoner; Bob Anderson and
Jimmy were sent to Stalag Luft III.
455 Squadron, April 1942. L-R Wilson, Bob Anderson, Smart, Humphrey, Acting S/L Jimmy Catanach DFC,
Miller, and Clarke. https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/SUK10124/
Jimmy’s handful of earlier letters to his parents had
been upbeat and emphasised his good spirits. His letter of 28 March 1943 was
more subdued. He told Bill as much of the truth as he could within the
constraints of censorship. He confessed his part in the events precipitating
capture: ‘my arrival in enemy territory was far from glorious. I force landed
as a result of fuel shortage caused by a sequence of misfortunes, mostly due to
my own foolishness and partly due to climate conditions and enemy action’.
Although the memory of it still ‘gets me down a bit’ he tried to push
recollections aside and conceded that ‘present circumstances are not so bad’.
Food, thanks to Red Cross parcels—when available—‘is quite good’ and living conditions
were tolerable, if ‘a bit trying’. By far ‘the worst thing’ was ‘the lack of
comradeship male & female and the futility of the existence.’ Even so, Jimmy
kept himself busy with exercise, cooking, study and reading. But even as he
made the most of life behind barbed wired, he planned for his future: ‘The end
of the war is the main interest and topic of conversation … I am going to try
studying Gem[m]ology & Bookkeeping etc. but am considering the idea of
staying in service’.
But, unlike the majority of Stalag Luft III’s
prisoners, Jimmy did not experience a life outside of captivity. Almost exactly
twelve months after writing to Bill, he was dead, one of fifty Allied
airmen—including five Australians—killed in the ‘Great Escape’ reprisals.
Jimmy after he had been captured after the mass breakout. Lifted from http://twicsy.com/i/6iideb
The men of Stalag Luft III were shocked, ‘shaken and
despondent’ when they heard of the death of their fellow prisoners. They held a
memorial parade after roll call. They wore black flashes. They observed a
period of mourning. They commemorated the dead in their wartime log books.
Later, they built a memorial to comrades who had merely been carrying out their
service duty to escape.
Sagan Memorial to the Fifty, courtesy of Geoff Swallow
Jimmy’s loss in particular affected his friends:
Ronnie Baines who he had welcomed and taken under his wing and into his room on
Baines’ first day in Stalag Luft III; Tony Gordon who had trained with him and
never stopped grieving for his first RAAF friend; Bob Anderson who had flown
with him and whose friendship had been forged under difficult and dangerous
conditions.
Ronnie Baines
Tony Gordon and Jimmy Catanach, courtesy of Drew Gordon
Bob Anderson. Courtesy of David Archer
On Anzac Day 1944—less than three weeks after they had
heard the ‘crushing news’ that most of those who had participated in the mass
breakout of 24/25 March had been killed on Hitler’s orders—Jimmy’s Australian
friends of North Compound gathered in the theatre with their compatriots from New
Zealand. There, Padre Watson took a special Anzac Day service. Afterwards, they
assembled for a series of group photographs taken by one of the German guards.
Anzac Day 1944. https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/P00270.027
The Australian ranks were depleted: as well as Jimmy,
Albert Hake, John Williams, Reg Kierath and Thomas Leigh had been executed. Dressed
as smartly as could be in worn RAAF and RAF uniforms, they proudly declared
that they were air force men. On the day in which Australians and New Zealanders,
honour their war dead, their photos were as much statements of Australian pride,
unity and defiance against the enemy as they were portraits of grief. Last
year, Jimmy had stood with them on Anzac Day.
Anzac Day 1943. Courtesy of Ian Fraser
This year he was missing, ‘his
duty fearlessly and nobly done’. But, he was ‘Ever remembered’.
Jimmy
Catanach’s headstone, Old Garrison Cemetery, Posen, courtesy of Geoff
Swallow,
Photographic
Archive of Headstones and Memorials WW2 by Spidge
Jimmy Catanach’s letters are held by the Shrine of Remembrance, Melbourne. I would like to thank Jenna Blyth, Collections Manager, and Neil Sharkey, Exhibitions Curator, who allowed me to consult the James Catanach Collection in October 2016.
