'Peace Jumpers' Fought Forest Fires Instead of Soldiers

WWII Objectors Used for Novel Program

MISSOULA, Mont. -- Christmas, 1944: As World War II dragged on in Europe and Asia, Roy Wenger and a handful of other young men set up a small Douglas fir tree in the cook shack attached to their barracks. During Christmas week the men carved, collected or created numerous baubles to add color to the tree.

Like many men in the armed services, they ached for family and friends back home. But they had disavowed all association with war. They were religious conscientious objectors, members of the Civilian Public Service (CPS) who had volunteered to participate in an experimental program run by the U.S. Forest Service.

Wenger, a former professor at Ohio's Kent State University who settled in Missoula after retirement, and his associates took part in one of the most dangerous and adventurous of civilian duties: parachuting into the rugged terrain of the Rocky Mountains to put out wildfires. By the time Germany and Japan surrendered, about 250 CPSers had helped the Forest Service transform its experimental smoke jumper program into a permanent firefighting unit that has become an important weapon in the government's battles against the fires that rage through national lands. Returning war veterans who took over their jobs stepped into an organized program.

A total of 72,354 draft registrants filed for conscientious-objection status from 1940 to 1947. But not all were accepted. The Selective Service identified a dozen types of conscientious objectors, but, for the most part, only recognized 12,000 religious and moral objectors as eligible for the Civilian Public Service. (Another 25,000 conscientious objectors signed up with the military for noncombatant duties.)

To avoid the harsh treatment doled out to COs during World War I, the three peace churches -- Mennonite, Brethren and Quaker -- supervised and fed the men in the camps, while the government assigned work of "national importance."

But while polite society referred to them as conchies, COs, or pacifists, others branded them "yellow bellies." Some COs were psychologically and physically attacked.

"It's a humbling experience to suddenly discover that you're way out of line with everyone else," said Wenger, who was the civilian director of the smoke jumper camps in Montana. "All COs had to develop thick skin."

Since the dangerous job offered them a chance to prove their mettle, many CPSers eagerly volunteered to become smoke jumpers. Wenger and others viewed the duty as "the moral equivalent of war."

The Forest Service began developing the smoke jumper unit in 1939. On July 12, 1940, Rufus Robinson and Earl Cooley jumped into history by parachuting to a small fire on Martin Creek on Idaho's Nez Percé Forest. Officials expanded the operation in 1941 to three eight-man squads. That December, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.

"Just when parachuting men to fires had proved practical, we were hit by shortages of men and equipment," said Cooley.

Many COs, including Phil Stanley, quickly became disenchanted with typical CPS duty. Most of the camps focused on soil conservation, forest management and agriculture. The men earned $2.50 a month.

"Most of the projects were worthless," said Stanley, who now resides in Polson, Mont. "Rather than work of national importance, we called most projects 'works of national impotence.' "

While working at a fire camp at Coleville, Wash., Stanley heard of the new technique of dropping men by parachute to fight fires. In 1942, he wrote to the Forest Service's Region I Fire Control, suggesting it use conscientious objectors as smoke jumpers. Administrators accepted the proposal, arranging with the Selective Service to provide 60 men the next spring to train at Seeley Lake, Mont.

During that first season, in 1943, neither the CPSers nor Forest Service employees knew what to expect. Cooley, who was assigned to train the volunteers, wasn't thrilled about the prospects. "When I first heard we were hiring conscientious objectors, I considered joining the Army," he said.

But Cooley soon grew to respect the CPS men. "Although unwilling to go into combat, the volunteers were willing to risk their lives smoke jumping," he said. "We thought these men would be hard to handle, independent, and real renegades. But they were just the opposite."

In 1944, the roster expanded to 120 men and training was moved to the old Civilian Conservation Corps barracks at Camp Menard just down the road from the Ninemile Remount Depot, about 30 miles west of Missoula. In 1945, 230 men went through training.

"Surely no work could be this enjoyable," recalled CPSer Ralph Miller. "A few fires later I changed my mind a bit. The work was hard, the rationale was lacking -- several days work on a fire for a 30-minute airplane ride and a two-minute parachute jump."

When the war ended, the Forest Service decided to release the Civilian Public Service staffers, opening the jobs to returning veterans. Stanley said that not many CPS volunteers wanted to stay anyway. "They all wanted to get home and get on with their lives, just like the returning GIs," he said.

Mark Matthews' history of the "Peace Jumpers" will be published this spring by Historic Montana Publishing (www.historicmontana.com).