A lot of what we know about World War II comes from the powerful images—both photos and films—that these combat photographers captured to show the different aspects of this tragic event.
Tons of pictures were taken by both pros and amateurs. Many guys who had been professional photographers before the war were called up to serve and kept taking photos while in uniform. Others were sent out by magazines, newspapers, and photo agencies to capture dramatic moments.
Even before the U.S. got involved, the Germans were already doing a great job documenting their war through photos and films. They set up Propaganda Kompanies (PK) where cameramen followed the troops around, and their work often made it into newsreels and military magazines like Signal and Der Adler, as well as popular publications.
The British were also committed to capturing the war on film and created the Army Film and Photographic Unit (AFPU) for that purpose.
It’s easy to imagine that going into battle with just a camera wasn’t exactly safe. Many photographers faced serious risks, getting killed or injured while trying to capture that perfect shot that would show folks back home what war was really like.
For instance, out of 1,400 U.S. Army Signal Corps cameramen in Western Europe during WWII, 32 lost their lives, and over 100 were hurt. Other photographers working with the Navy and Marine Corps also died while trying to get the right shot. Even civilian photographers weren’t safe; of the 21 Life magazine cameramen sent overseas, five were injured and 12 caught malaria.
Just two months after Pearl Harbor, as the war escalated and the Army needed more photos, the U.S. Army took over the old Paramount Studios in Long Island City, New York, and turned it into the Signal Corps Photographic Center—later known as the Army Pictorial Center. This became the base for filmmakers and still photographers who documented the war and produced tons of training films.Check out this shot of Coast Guard cinematographer Charles W. Bossert showing off his Bell & Howell Eyemo 35mm camera, which got messed up by shrapnel from a Japanese mortar on Iwo Jima. A lot of combat photographers faced serious risks, with many getting injured or even killed while trying to capture the reality of war. Once they set up the center, the Army Pictorial Service became a big player in film production. They brought in some of Hollywood’s top directors, cameramen, writers, and techies—some volunteered, while others were drafted. Plus, there were plenty of folks with backgrounds in still photography, like newspaper and magazine photographers, editors, and darkroom pros.
By 1943, the center was flooded with images from all over the world, so they had to expand their storage big time. By the end of the war, they had more than 500,000 images in their library.
World War II is known as the most visually documented event ever, with millions of photos taken by thousands of photographers. Some shots became legendary, like Joe Rosenthal’s iconic flag-raising at Iwo Jima, Robert Capa’s blurry D-Day pic of a soldier in the surf at Normandy, or Margaret Bourke-White’s haunting image of starving survivors at Buchenwald staring blankly at their liberators.
These photographers worked for magazines or wire services and had their work featured in publications like Life, Time, and U.S. News and World Report. They were called war correspondents and were considered civilian employees of the U.S. War Department, wearing officer uniforms with special badges to show they were official photographers.
On the flip side, most military photographers stayed pretty much anonymous. Their work usually just had a credit line saying “Official U.S. Army photograph” or “Official U.S. Navy photograph.”
William R. Wilson, a former lieutenant in the 162nd Signal Company, Photographic Company, Army Pictorial Service, shared in a 2002 interview that one of the main issues they faced was not getting credited for their photos when published. He noted that individual Signal Corps photographers were never allowed to have their names recognized.Let’s give a shoutout to four war photographers who were once unknown but totally deserve recognition for their amazing work. Giving credit to one of them means giving props to all those countless unsung heroes behind the camera. The stories from these four photographers really show what it took to capture those intense moments.
Take Navy photographer William Barr, for example. He caught this incredible shot of a kamikaze attack on the USS Enterprise’s flight deck back on May 14, 1945. William T. Barr
Barr served as a Photographers Mate First Class from 1942 to 1945, covering places like Bougainville in the Solomon Islands, Leyte Island and Luzon in the Philippines, plus spots in Formosa, China, Iwo Jima, Okinawa, Ulithi in the Carolines, and Japan.
He shared, “I was a first-class photographer, and one of my gigs was working a movie camera mounted on the ship’s superstructure, aimed at the back end. When planes were landing, many were pretty banged up, so I had to snap photos of those struggling to land and whatever else went down. I even filmed some crash scenes that later made it into a movie called The Fighting Lady.”
When they were under attack, he and his crew would grab cameras and rush to the flight deck to capture the chaos, snapping shots of enemy planes hitting nearby carriers and ships. They ended up with some awesome action shots.
One day, a Japanese plane dropped a bomb on the Enterprise’s flight deck, but thankfully it didn’t go off. Barr remembered, “Our planes were returning from a mission and looked pretty good, so I wasn’t on the movie camera duty at that moment. I was just wandering around the superstructure with my camera when the last plane came in. To everyone’s shock, we realized it was a Japanese plane.”He had just slipped into the landing pattern without anyone noticing. He zoomed over the Enterprise and dropped a bomb, but since he was flying so low, the bomb didn’t have time to orient itself properly. Usually, when a bomb hits a ship, it comes straight down, and the explosion is triggered by a device at the front.
Instead, this bomb landed on its side, bounced around a bit, and finally came to rest. I was watching it from above, totally freaked out, thinking it was a time bomb. So, I figured I should get out of there fast, but then the gunnery officer saw me and said, “Barr, go down there and get a close-up of that bomb. I need to see the markings.”
I replied, “But sir, it’s a time bomb! It could blow any second!” He brushed me off, saying, “Nonsense, it’s not a time bomb. Just get those pictures.” So, with my heart racing, I made my way to the flight deck, got as close as I dared to the bomb, snapped some pics, and then bolted away as fast as I could. The photos were sent back to the States, and copies went to the gunnery officer.
It turned out it wasn’t a time bomb after all. To show you how brave the guys on the ship were, after I took the pictures, about ten men casually walked up to the bomb and rolled it off the edge of the ship into the water.
When I wasn’t busy taking photos or filming, I was just soaking in life on a carrier during an active war zone.
While I was on the Enterprise, we took part in eight battles: the Battle of Leyte Gulf, attacks on Luzon, Formosa, and the China coast—all areas occupied by the Japanese. We also raided the Japanese islands of Honshu and Nansei Shoto.So, we were hanging out near Iwo Jima, getting into the thick of that battle by bombing Japanese positions at night. We were a night carrier back then. After that, we spent about six weeks off Okinawa, constantly hitting those Japanese spots under the cover of darkness. That was my last mission.
I remember in December ’44, Air Group 90 joined us. They had been trained to operate at night using radar in their planes, so our ship teamed up with them to wrap up their training. Starting in January, they began nighttime bombings, relying solely on radar to find the Japanese islands and targets. It actually worked really well.
The Enterprise, along with Air Group 90, was the only ship specifically set up for night operations. These nighttime missions not only caused a lot of damage but also kept the Japanese troops awake all night, which must have been tough on their morale since they never got any sleep.
Barr mentioned that out of the 22 battles the Enterprise took part in, the worst damage happened on May 14, 1945. When general quarters sounded, we were on deck with cameras ready. I just happened to be in the photo lab when the Japanese planes came at us. It was pretty interesting down there; you couldn’t see anything, but you could hear the 5-inch guns firing away, which had a long range. We figured the Japanese were about 15 miles out.
Then the 5-inch guns would stop, and the 40mm guns would kick in, which only reach about two miles. That told us the Japanese were pretty close, within two miles of our fleet. They were targeting the carriers right in the middle of our formation, surrounded by smaller ships stretching out about 10 to 15 miles.Corporal Hugh McHugh, who’s seen here with his 4×5 Speed Graphic PH-104, tragically lost his life to a sniper on January 15, 1945, in Belgium. While we were all feeling anxious and looking at each other, the Japanese forces were closing in. Then we heard the 20-millimeter guns firing at incoming planes. They’re pretty effective for about half a mile, so we knew the Japanese were diving toward us, and suddenly, the ship shook.
We didn’t hear the blast, but we definitely felt the impact and realized we’d been hit. So, we grabbed our cameras and rushed up to the deck to capture whatever we could of the flames and damage. The fire was put out in about half an hour, but nearby ships managed to snap some amazing shots of the Enterprise on fire.
One kamikaze pilot dove in near our no. 91 elevator; his bomb went down about five decks before exploding just below the no. 1 elevator. It must have been around a 1,500 to 2,000-pound bomb because it blew a massive chunk of the elevator high into the air. One of the nearby ships even caught a picture of that huge piece soaring 400 feet up. Eventually, I got a shot of that elevator piece flying over 800 feet in the air.
The carrier took quite a beating. Barr mentioned that while we could still move, we couldn’t operate any of the guns. After about two hours, the Japanese pulled back, and we made our way to an island called Mog Mog, which had a big harbor where we could find safety. Actually, it was the Ulithi Anchorage—Mog Mog was just one of the islands. From there, we were sent back to the States for repairs.
Barr also remembered another event: It was nighttime, and our entire fleet was surrounding us while the Japanese were searching for the American Fleet. We had to black out everything—no lights at all because if we turned on a white light, the Japanese would spot us and come after us. The only lights we used were these dim red ones, so we moved around the ship safely using those.So, one of our planes landed, but it was pretty messed up. It was getting dark, and they were about to push the damaged plane overboard when someone pointed out that it was a photo plane with a gun camera that had footage of the shoreline where the Marines wanted to land. This footage was crucial because it showed any potential dangers, like big rocks or other hazards.
The captain decided we needed to get that gun camera out before tossing the plane. They started looking for a photographer to grab it, and guess who they found? Me! They told me to go down and retrieve the gun camera, but I said I couldn’t do it without a flashlight or something. Someone mentioned that if we turned on a light, the Japanese might see us. Then the captain suggested using the searchlight on the plane while I went down to get the camera.
I made my way to the plane and climbed up to where the gun camera was. They switched on the searchlight, and I thought, “Great, now any enemy plane in the area can spot me.” But somehow, I managed to quickly detach the gun camera and get away from the plane safely. Once I was clear, they turned off the searchlight, and let me tell you, I was super scared. If the Japanese had been even close, they would’ve noticed that light and come after us. I really lucked out.
Throughout the war, whenever carriers got attacked, the flight deck was often packed with planes loaded with fuel, bombs, rockets, and other dangerous stuff, all set to take off. During an attack, those flammable materials could easily catch fire, leading to massive explosions and a lot of injuries.Most of the time when the Enterprise got hit, they weren’t loaded up with planes ready to go, so there was definitely some luck involved, Barr mentioned. We took some serious damage a few times, but our deck crew was incredibly well-trained. As soon as we were bombed, they’d sprint out with their hoses to put out the fires, like on May 14 when a kamikaze hit us hard and nearly knocked us out of the fight. They managed to extinguish that fire in under 17 minutes—it was amazing.
We’ve got tons of photos showing the flight deck packed with guys battling the flames, and it’s just awesome to see how quickly they jumped into action. Sure, we were lucky, but we also had a top-notch crew.
Emil Edgren
Emil Edgren, a U.S. Army Technician 4th Class, served in places like Iceland, England, France, and other spots in the European Theater from 1941 to 1945 while with the 3908th Signal Service Battalion.
He remembered that while he was in England, his job was to capture images of bombers coming back from missions over Germany. It was tough to watch those damaged planes return, especially when some crew members were brought out lifeless from the B-17 Flying Fortresses. Every time a plane came in, I held my breath and said a prayer. Those guys in the air were the real heroes. When some of them got passes to London, they really let loose and enjoyed themselves, which they totally deserved after everything.
One day, a fellow photographer told me he was going to fly with a plane to drop supplies to some troops. He said it would be great because they’d open a side door for us to take photos of the drop. He asked if I wanted to join him, but I declined this time since I was busy working on my camera. I was trying to cover up some chrome on my Speed Graphic 4×5 camera because it would make me an easy target if I got too close to any enemy fire.Emil Edgren snapped a shot of an American soldier with a Browning Automatic Rifle, checking out a B-17 that had crash-landed in a Belgian field. This guy was the friendliest dude from New York. He boarded a plane but never made it back; he got shot down somewhere in France. It really hit me how close I was to losing him, and from that moment on, I never took a single day for granted. I can still picture his smile and hear him encouraging me to join him. That’s just the harsh reality of war—everyone was at risk, even photographers like me.
There was another time when Edgren felt like he might have had a guardian angel looking out for him. One morning, he was running late for breakfast. Not long after that plane incident, I stepped out of my place to walk a few blocks for some food, only to find a huge, smoking hole where the dining room and kitchen used to be. A V1 rocket had struck, taking out the staff and the GIs who were there for breakfast. If I had been on time… I tried not to dwell on that as I stood there in shock, watching the smoke rise and hearing the sirens. That kind of image sticks with you.
While I was in Salisbury, the local newspaper editor asked if someone could snap some photos since the Duchess of Kent was visiting. The paper had managed to keep going, but their photographer had been lost in the war. Lucky for me, I happened to be in the right spot at the right time. I got some good shots, and Lieutenant Berger, the PR guy for the generals, even wrote me a nice commendation.
Not long after that, I got transferred to London to work with the Army Pictorial Service (Army Signal Corps). After all the moving around, London felt like paradise. We were set up in some nice digs with great food. My company commander was Major McAlister, and his secretary, Virginia, was part of the Women’s Army Corps (WAC). We got assignments and traveled all over Europe, sometimes by plane or jeep.Dodging buzz bombs in London felt as normal as chilling on the beach in Seaside, California, during basic training at Fort Ord. At least Edgren was where he wanted to be, doing what he loved: taking photos.
After being in London for about eight months, he got the chance to photograph Queen Consort Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, the wife of George VI. He remembered her being super friendly and down-to-earth, which surprised him since he was just a foreign Army photographer. They chatted, and he even told her about California.
Once Paris was liberated in August 1944, Edgren’s unit received orders to head to France. Little did he know, he was on the final stretch of his journey to the Place de la Concorde in Paris. Everything was lining up for a moment in history that would unfold right in front of his camera.
Even though the Nazi presence wasn’t as strong as before, there were still reminders of their time there, and the fear of them returning lingered. The French people weren’t fully convinced that the Nazis had left. The war was still ongoing, and the memories of bombings haunted them, even if it was just in their minds. There was a sense of unease in Paris that overshadowed any joy of being there.
The photographic battalion was set up right in the heart of Paris. Their living situation was nothing like typical Army life; they stayed in a beautiful apartment with maid service to tidy up. Edgren lived on the third floor, and the maid rarely made it up there, especially if she was attractive. The fancy Rothschild Mansion was just a block away, showcasing the upscale area they were in. But just like in England, the luxury didn’t hide the scars of war or the fact that the conflict was still very much alive around them.At our office, there were five of us just hanging out, waiting for assignments. Whenever we got one, Major McAlister’s secretary, Virginia, took care of everything like transportation and how long we had to complete the task. If you treated her well, she’d often throw in a few extra days, which was awesome because when you returned, you didn’t have to check in until your time was up.
The war was still happening, and my assignment was to join the 82nd Airborne Division for a glider mission into Holland. I was at an airfield in England getting briefed on our landing zone. I sat in the glider three times, but each time we had to call it off because of bad weather. I reached out to the major, and he told me to come back. So, I hopped in a jeep, and the next day, the invasion happened. It turned out to be a total mess. I dodged a bullet on that one—thank goodness for my lucky charm!
Later on, I teamed up with a filmmaker named Herb Shannon. We were supposed to report to the 82nd Airborne since the Battle of the Bulge was kicking off. We were pretty much left to figure things out ourselves. We linked up with regimental headquarters and ended up in this small, abandoned village in Belgium. Everyone had cleared out, so we could pick any house we wanted.
It was December, and man, it was freezing. Winter in Belgium was brutal, second only to Iceland. We chose a house and set up our sleeping bags upstairs for the night. The next morning, we grabbed our mess kits and headed to the field kitchen. Surprise! The whole regiment had moved out overnight!
So there we were, totally alone, with the Germans advancing towards us. I could almost hear the German troops nearby, convinced they were just beyond the trees. Shannon and I bolted, constantly looking back, expecting to hear someone shout, “HALT!” We finally followed some muddy tracks and caught up with the regiment.
While I was covering the front lines, I managed to snap a great shot of one of the 82nd guys rushing to help his buddy while the Germans were firing at us. In that skirmish, several enemy soldiers were taken out, and thankfully, no one from our side got hurt.So, it had been a freezing week, and I was daydreaming about Paris. Finally, a new lieutenant from headquarters tracked us down. He said he’d been looking for us and had a message: we were supposed to report to Eagle.
I could tell this guy didn’t have a clue what Eagle meant. Awesome! Eagle was actually the code name for Paris. But hey, if that’s what they say, let’s roll with it. We hopped in our jeep and headed straight for Paris.
When we got there, we reported to Major McAlister. He looked surprised and asked, “What are you guys doing here?”
We explained that Lieutenant Sheldon told us to come back. Later on, we found out that Eagle wasn’t Paris at all; it was an Army Corps headquarters. I felt kinda bad because we probably got that lieutenant into some trouble.
Looking back, it’s wild how things worked out. I happened to be in the right place at the right time, and on May 8, 1945, I stood in the Place de la Concorde, snapping photos of the crowd. Then I heard General Charles de Gaulle’s voice booming from the opera house: “The war in Europe is over. Germany has surrendered. Vive la France!”
More Affairs
Charles Rosario Restifo
Charles Rosario Restifo served in the Pacific Theater, specifically in the Philippines and Japan, as a staff sergeant in the Army Signal Corps from 1942 to 1945. His job involved following General Douglas MacArthur around and later photographing Hiroshima right after it got bombed.
As a combat photographer in the U.S. Army Signal Corps, Restifo was in charge of his unit in Bougainville. He mentioned being present during planning meetings in March 1944 with Maj. Gen. Oscar Griswold and Colonel Harry C. Hull for the landings on Leyte and Luzon in the Philippines. These operations were part of General MacArthur’s strategy to return to the Philippines, rescue the Americans left behind in 1942, and eventually use the Philippines as a launchpad for an invasion of Japan. On March 21, 1944, he received orders saying he would be attached to XIV Corps Headquarters under General Walter Krueger.The master plan was a massive undertaking that involved equipment and personnel from land, sea, and air. Three guys from our Photo Corps were going to stick around in Bougainville with the trailers and gear, while three of us, including myself, were headed to the Philippines—specifically Leyte, Lingayen Gulf on Luzon, and eventually down to Manila, which is over 2,000 miles away from Bougainville.
On October 20, 1944, we had A-Day marked for landing on Leyte. This was the first time Americans were returning to the Philippines since they left in defeat back in early 1942. After some intense shelling and gunfire between American forces and the Japanese on the Leyte shore, General MacArthur made his grand return. It had been over 30 months since he had left the Philippines feeling pretty defeated, but this time he waded ashore in knee-deep water, flanked by Philippine President Sergio Osmena and Resident Commissioner Carlos Romulo.
Even though there was still some shooting going on, MacArthur strolled onto the beach with just a pistol tucked in his pants pocket. This was a super emotional moment for him, and he wanted to make sure the Filipinos knew he was back. So, he quickly grabbed a field radio and announced, “People of the Philippines, I have returned,” with President Osmena right beside him.
With that, MacArthur’s big plans for landing on the western side of the Philippines at Lingayen Gulf could kick off. They gathered almost 1,000 ships, 3,000 landing craft, and 208,000 troops for the operation. General Krueger, who had been at Leyte, was leading the Sixth Army ground forces.
The actual landing took place at two spots along the Lingayen Gulf beach. I was part of Maj. Gen. Oscar Griswold’s XIV Corps, and we were set to hit the western beach. Air support was also on standby. S-Day was set for 0700 on January 9, 1945.
I was on the USS Mount Olympus, a communication ship captained by Admiral Ted Wilkinson. The journey from Leyte to Luzon was about 400 miles over land but longer by sea. On S-Day, I woke up at 0400, and in the early morning light, I saw hundreds of all kinds of ships stretching as far as I could see: aircraft carriers, cruisers, destroyers, landing craft—you name it. It was an incredible sight!All the ships were on high alert. We were getting hit by a ton of kamikaze planes and small suicide boats, creating chaos everywhere. At exactly 0700, the U.S. ships started bombarding the shoreline. Flares shot up in the air, signaling General Krueger to start sending his troops to the beach using small landing crafts.
I was about to climb down the ladder into one of those boats when a kamikaze plane crashed onto our deck and splashed into the water.
The soldiers landed on the beach in hundreds of landing barges that opened at the front, allowing them and their gear to hop out and wade ashore, with each boat leaving about five to ten minutes apart.
I was part of the fourth wave. I wanted to snap some shots of the guys and the landing crafts as they made it to the shore, along with any Japanese forces on the beach. Some guys from the second wave got stuck on a sandbar. The coxswain opened the gate too early, causing some men to step right into six to eight feet of water. I watched them struggle to get free from their heavy gear, and sadly, a few of them drowned. There wasn’t much gunfire coming back from the Japanese; most of them had bolted inland after the ship bombardment and were hiding in the trees and bushes.
With the Philippines being liberated, it felt like Japan’s fall was just around the corner.
Restifo went on to say that after the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima on August 6, 1945, we were all confused since none of us had ever heard of an atom bomb before. I got ordered to head to Japan with two other photographers to take pictures of the area. We were the third plane to land in Yokohama, Japan, coming from Manila. To make room for us, we had to bump about 50 higher-ranking personnel off the flight because we had priority. Plus, we needed space for a jeep and our equipment.So, the plan was to fly to Guadalcanal first, and then at 3 AM, hop on a C-47 for a four-hour flight to Yokohama. We landed in Yokohama around 7 AM and saw a bunch of Japanese folks lined up with vehicles ready to take us wherever we needed to go. General MacArthur had ordered them to do this from Manila. They looked pretty pale and scared because their bosses had told them that the U.S. forces were going to execute them all.
Next, we flew over to Hiroshima and snapped some photos. The city was still smoldering, completely wrecked from the fires after the bombing. There were only a few walls standing in what used to be a massive city. The locals were in shock, running around, crying, and wailing. Many had burns and blisters, and some were even using umbrellas to shield themselves from the light rain. The ground was soaked, and sadly, there were quite a few dead bodies. We kept taking pictures and filming, and when some Canadian photographers ran out of film, we shared some of ours with them.
An American medical team approached us, asking if we could cover their efforts. They were reaching out to Washington for help in sending 200- and 400-bed hospital units to Hiroshima, which would be set up by the SeaBees. These hospitals would come with medical staff, nurses, beds, supplies, medicine, and shelter.
Honestly, we were just as curious about what happened here as the Japanese were. This was the first time an atomic bomb had been dropped on a populated area. The U.S. wanted to assist and also learn about the injuries and effects of atomic bombs on people.
Within a week after the explosion, preparations for the hospitals were already in motion. A few days after I visited, the Army sent in bulldozers to clear away the debris. They had gathered survivors into tents, set up generators for power, and provided food. The powerful U.S. was getting ready to care for and treat the very people they had bombed, including those who attacked Pearl Harbor. My personal task was to head back to Tokyo.Check out this photo by Charles Restifo showing the devastation in Hiroshima. He was one of the first photographers allowed into the ruined, radioactive city. While in Tokyo, he got the green light to snap some pics of the Imperial Palace and even caught a meeting between Emperor Hirohito and General MacArthur. The palace was surrounded by what used to be a stunning garden and moats with a cool cross bridge. The Emperor was all dressed up in a formal top hat and a black suit, while MacArthur rocked his usual tan outfit with that iconic squashed cap, an open-neck shirt, and no tie.
After the Hiroshima bombing and before the surrender was signed, our job was to document what was happening in the city and nearby areas, including the Japanese Parliament, known as the Diet.
On September 2, 1945, the day Japan officially surrendered on the USS Missouri, two guys and I made our way to the ship. On deck, there was General MacArthur in his casual tan outfit, and the Japanese delegates were all dressed up in formal wear with top hats, along with several Japanese generals. High-ranking officials from our military and Allied forces were also there. Tons of sailors and soldiers who had been fighting in the Pacific for ages were hanging over the rails, watching this historic moment unfold. Restifo’s photos from the signing ceremony still pop up in various publications today.
William R. Wilson
Lieutenant (later Captain) William R. Wilson served in North Africa, Sicily, and Italy with the 162nd Signal Company of the Army Pictorial Service from 1941 to 1945. He remembered how Hollywood photographers influenced him and the whole photo credit situation.
One morning, Daryl Zanuck—yeah, you might know that name—decided to help the American Army by shooting both stills and motion pictures of the North Africa invasion. He came aboard the Derbyshire and found my crew and me. He was the only full colonel—what we like to call a chicken colonel—who ever wore diamond-studded shoulder insignia!Back then, our gear was mainly Speed Graphic 4×5 cameras and Bell and Howell Eyemo motion picture cameras. But then Colonel Zanuck came through with some cool 35mm Kodak 35s, which were all metal and painted olive drab. I think my unit got three of those along with a really nice scenic Kodak special 16mm movie camera, but that one ended up at the bottom of the Kasserine River. My sergeant, Larry Mueller, tossed it in there and swam across to escape from the Germans during the Battle of Kasserine Pass.
Later on, when I met a woman at the Pentagon, she told me that the photos I took during World War II were the best they had in their files. I asked her if she knew why that was, and she said no. So I told her it was because they were all shot on 4×5 negatives.
Check out this color photo by William Wilson of a temporary U.S. war cemetery on Sicily’s northern coast in 1944. Unlike most of my unofficial shots taken on 35mm film, one of my air raid pics was chosen as one of the top 26 photographs from World War II. It got published in a booklet by the company that made our Speed Graphic cameras—I’ve got a few copies of that. The cover featured a shot of an exploding depth charge by a Navy photographer, while my photo, titled Hell over Oran, was the double-page centerfold.
But it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows in the Army Pictorial Service. There were two groups of photographers: the old-school guys, some of whom graduated from the Signal Corps Photographic School in Astoria, and then the Hollywood crew from California. There wasn’t much respect between the two sides. A big issue we faced in the Army Pictorial Service was that we never got credited for our work when our photos were published. Individual photographers could never have their names attached to their pictures.Let me share a story about this one Signal Corps photographer who actually got credit for his photos when they were published. He was part of the 165th Signal Photographic Company and had this cool idea for the Normandy invasion on June 6, 1944. He thought it would be awesome to take a carrier pigeon with him, snap some pics on a roll of 35mm film, and then attach the film canister to the pigeon’s leg. His plan was to send the bird flying back to England with the first combat shots from D-Day.
But you know how it goes—best laid plans can go sideways. The pigeon got confused and instead of heading north to England, it flew south right over German lines. Later, a German Army newspaper featured a great spread of American Army photos, complete with the name of the young lieutenant from the 165th who took them. That was the only time I heard of an Army Pictorial Service photographer getting recognized like that.
Emil Edgren recalled that one of his pals, Sergeant Frank Kaye, was involved in that whole mess. Kaye had a 35mm camera and a small cage of trained pigeons strapped to his back during the landing. After landing, he sent off the pigeon with the roll of film attached, but guess what? Those pigeons weren’t trained to fly over water! So instead of heading to London, they turned around and flew back toward Germany. Frank was pretty bummed out after that blunder, and I often wondered if the Germans ended up developing that film.
Wilson wrapped it up by saying that the official photos from his unit always had full captions and the photographer’s name. But it wasn’t until they got back home and went through old World War II issues of Life magazine that they realized some of their own photos had been published in Life, Look, and other places, including the Army’s official photographic history of the Mediterranean Theater during World War II.Beatrice, Charles Restifo’s widow, shared with me that her husband was a follower of MacArthur and had some well-known photographs, while others weren’t as famous. He took great pride in his service in the Army, and she still has his jacket that says “war photographer” on it. Sadly, many of those photographers have passed away, taking their incredible stories with them.
But we can’t forget everything. The tales of these four camera soldiers pay tribute to the countless others who captured the war but remained unknown, all for the sake of history and humanity.
As one combat photographer put it, “People today, tomorrow, and in the future will get to see this historic moment through my eyes.”
