“World War II Passes Through”
by Pablo Capra
Part of a series on overlooked Malibu history
An illuminated purse was useful in wartime. Photo c/o Topanga Journal, 1943-03-19. |
On August 26, 1939, one week before Adolf Hitler started World War II, he ordered all merchant ships to return home. Germany’s largest ship, the SS Bremen, was more than halfway to New York, so the captain decided to continue on to unload its 1,770 passengers. The ship left New York on August 30th with its crew singing Nazi anthems.
On September 1st, Hitler invaded Poland. The Bremen, and all other ships caught at sea, began traveling in wartime secrecy. It was speculated that Allied blockades around Germany would now force the Bremen to find harbor in another country, perhaps Norway, Italy, or Mexico. If captured, the Bremen would be a major prize. Similarly, the British feared capture of their RMS Queen Mary, an even larger ship, until it reached New York on September 4th.
On September 7th, German media announced that the Bremen was safe. The Allies kept searching, distrusting propaganda. Unexpectedly, the LA Times published a photo of a silver platter, stamped with the ship’s insignia, that had washed up on Topanga Beach on September 23rd. Kenneth Foote, of Westwood, said he found it while digging for crabs. The mystery of how the platter got to Malibu was forgotten a week later when the Bremen was confirmed to be in Murmansk, Russia.
Another WWII mystery was the Battle of Los Angeles. On the night of February 24, 1942, radar saw something enter Los Angeles airspace from the West, fly over Long Beach, then circle back. A huge response by antiaircraft guns couldn’t halt its progress. Instead, three people died in car accidents, two people died from heart attacks, and shells rained back down onto the city. The Evening Outlook reported the incident as, “Japs Bomb Off Topanga.” An official investigation concluded that the panic was caused by a weather balloon (unofficially, it was a UFO), with a contributing factor being the submarine attack on Santa Barbara the night before.
Fear surrounding these skirmishes helped justify the internment of Japanese Americans a week later and gave racism free rein. In 1942, on the anniversary of the Attack on Pearl Harbor, the Topanga Journal’s editor Hugh Harlan wrote:
"It is only a matter of time until the Japs will attempt to invade California. That attempt might be made at Topanga Beach.
"Why do you think thousands of Japanese army and navy reservists lived and worked in California? Because they liked our climate? Because they loved us?.… The Japs have been planning for years to take our Country by force.… They may come before the ink on this warning is dry…. Are you prepared mentally and physically to kill or be killed?"
The Army practiced aerial attacks on the barge Prentiss, purchased from the Malibu Sport Fishing Company, until a tracer bullet set it on fire and it crashed into the rocks. On May 15, 1942, the Malibu Bugle eulogized the Prentiss as the “perfect lady,” who “uttered no groan” while serving her country, and from whose body emerged future soldiers.
"For weeks she lay just off Malibu Beach, her active sailing days ended, and took everything the flying circuses of P-38’s could pour into her.… Her stout ribs even protected the three young adventurers who clambored aboard her, unconscious of the menace from the skies, saved them from the shower of fifty calibers, possibly to become pilots themselves…."
The Carrere family: Fernando (Edward’s brother), Helen, Leon “Bobby,” and Edward, c. 1941. Photo c/o the Carrere family. |
Bobby grew attached to Richard Haydn’s dog Tucker, c. 1944. Photo c/o the Carrere family. |
Leon “Bobby” Carrere (b.1935) saw an old gambling ship being used as target practice from his Topanga Beach house, and described other sights of Malibu at war.
“The hills along the coast were full of artillery. It was a common sight to see 100 Army vehicles at a time driving down the highway. Sometimes the Army closed the beach to play war games. The Coast Guard had a camp at Sunset Blvd. and patrolled the beach on foot every evening, passing by our house with bayonets and German Shepherds. On either side of the lagoon, machine gun nests were placed on dirt mounds.”
One nest was in front of his best friend’s house, John “Jack” Sykes (1935-2017), who shared this story.
“They dug a big hole in the sand, and had soldiers in there. I would bring them cookies from our house, and my dad got so mad at me. I was taking all our stuff out for these guys to eat.”
Bobby’s father, Edward Carrere (1906-1984), was a Warner Bros. draftsman, and would become the Oscar-winning art director of Camelot (1967). His mother, Helen, served with the American Women’s Voluntary Services as an air-raid lookout from the roof of Ted’s Rancho Restaurant, across the street from today’s Getty Villa. She made sure to avoid the fines of the Blackout Warden by only burning candles at night behind their thick curtains.
Drivers had to illuminate the road with their parking lights, and could only buy gas with coupons from the Malibu Rationing Board. On December 20, 1943, the Board “grounded” the cars of three people who were spotted hunting in Utah. Otto Opperman (a manufacturer of airplane parts from Topanga), his wife Florence, and Christy Miller (a lifeguard from Topanga Beach) testified that they’d saved enough coupons for the trip. However, the Board ruled that saving gas for pleasure missed the point.
The Topanga Civilian Defense Committee encouraged hitchhiking and, on February 12, 1943, announced plans to install a bench in Santa Monica. “Homeward-bound Topanga motorists are asked to drive by the bench… and pick up their fellow hill billies.”
On September 11, 1942, a warning appeared in the LA Times that large-caliber guns would be test fired from the Pacific Palisades.
"All shipping stand clear. The danger area is outlined as the area between the Santa Monica Pier and Topanga Beach for a distance of 12 miles to sea."
And on October 27, 1943, a mock invasion of the coast between Topanga and Palos Verdes took place before dawn. “Enemy” soldiers succeeded in reaching two out of three industrial plants, but suffered “heavy losses.”
New recruits, many from the Midwest, did basic training at the West LA Soldiers Home. “Our neighborhood would invite them to the beach for summer barbecues,” Bobby said. Sometimes, he’d see Gen. Jimmy Doolittle, who was friends with neighbors Don “Chick” Dawson and his wife Sarah. Doolittle gifted the Dawsons a large wooden propeller that hung proudly over their fireplace. He also took a shoulder patch off his uniform and gave it to Bobby.
Doolittle famously led the first retaliatory attack on Japan, known as the Doolittle Raid, on April 18, 1942. Although the attack did minor damage, and many civilians were among the 50 people killed and 400 injured, it was noted for its daring, long-range strategy. All 16 B-25 bombers but one crash-landed in China, and most of the crewmen escaped with the help of Chinese guerrillas. The Japanese subsequently retaliated against the Chinese, killing an estimated 250,000 people. Doolittle thought he would be court-martialed, but instead Americans were so glad to have finally struck back that he was given the Medal of Honor.
Married actors Louis Hayward (1909-1985) and Ida Lupino (1918-1995) lived next door to Bobby. Hayward served in the Pacific as the commander of a documentary film unit, and afterwards won an Oscar for making With the Marines at Tarawa (1944). The island was the site of a three-day battle in which over 6,000 people died. Hayward was so altered by the experience that his wife no longer knew him. They divorced in 1945.
Another neighbor, English actor Richard Haydn (1905-1985), returned to his home country for part of the war. He asked Bobby’s family to take care of his dog Tucker (named after Broadway star Sophie Tucker), which thrilled Bobby. When Haydn came back, Tucker had puppies, and Bobby got to keep one that he named Wrinkles.
The Franklin family: Sam, Larry (carrying Beth), Louis, and Evelyn, c. 1941. Photo c/o the Franklin family. |
The Franklins’ beach house, formerly the Topanga Yacht Clubhouse, c. 1950. Photo c/o the Franklin family. |
Louis (1904-1979) and Evelyn Franklin (1906-1982) bought the former Topanga Yacht Clubhouse in 1941 for weekend getaways with their children: Larry (b.1930), Sam (b.1936), and Beth (b.1940). The two-story building was surmounted by a mast that flew nautical flags. Owner Helene Raymond (1878-1951), the Club’s first officer, explained that the house had been one of the few to survive the swell of 1926. She planned to move to Pearl Harbor, where her son was in the Navy.
“My dad talked to her a couple of days after December 7, 1941, and offered to cancel the sale, but she decided to go through with it, despite being unable to travel to Hawaii,” Sam said.
Louis worked in a wrecking yard, and the family lived in the Pico-Robertson neighborhood. They drove to the beach house along boulevards lined with “barrage balloons,” blimp shapes tethered to cables that could obstruct air attacks. One night, they were awakened by a tank and a searchlight trained on an invader at the Topanga Point.
“The threat turned out to be a fishing boat. The fisherman had illegally put a gill net down too close to the beach because the fishing was better by the rocks. He’d come back at midnight to secretly get it, and his keel got stuck,” Sam said.
As the War in Europe reached its last month in April 1945, the abandoned café at the Topanga intersection, Rust’s Barbecue, became a depot for clothing donations for the liberated peoples of Europe. Proprietor Ina Rust (1901-1988) had found new opportunity working at Garrett AiResearch and Douglas Aircraft, and her daughter Thais (1925-2021) followed her into the aerospace field.
“A lot of Douglas Aircraft workers lived in the Topanga Beach Auto Court,” Larry said.
People remained vigilant even after the Japanese surrendered on August 15, 1945. Bertha Spurgin, of Old Malibu Rd., found a messenger pigeon and brought it to the Malibu Sheriff’s office on August 24th. It was turned over to the Army, so we’ll never know what the message said, but, by then, the bird might as well have been a symbol of peace carrying an olive branch.
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Pablo Capra is the Archivist for the Topanga Historical Society and author of Topanga Beach: A History 1820s-1920s (2020).