Part 1. Growing Up

Joseph Herbert Noyes was born on August 11th 1921, in tiny little Beach, North Dakota. He was the eldest son of Walter and Frances, both of whom were originally from Minnesota.

After his brothers Robert (Bob), and Walter were born, each about two years apart, the family officially relocated to Seattle, Washington. The 1930 King County census shows the Noyes family residing in a rented house at 730 North 88th Street. Walter, a 33 year old war veteran, is listed as a salesman in the grocery store industry.

During that period of time, the city of Seattle had a population of around 350,000, and was composed mostly of working class families. Those were the days before Microsoft. Despite long hours on-the-clock, a grim economy, and damp weather, Seattle still felt like a small town though. A place where neighbors were friends, and friends came over to borrow a cup of sugar.

Most of Joe’s childhood was spent in a narrow, two-story, cream colored home, at 410 West Lee Street on Queen Anne Hill. Back in that day there were no trees or shrubbery around it, and it was (still is, actually) one of the oldest houses in the area. Conveniently, it was also only a few minutes walk from St. Anne’s, a Catholic elementary school with a charming red brick facade.

After attending St. Anne’s, where he played intramural basketball, Joe Noyes graduated from Queen Anne High School in 1940.

Joe’s high school sweetheart –a girl named Donna Davis– graduated with the class of 1943. They were engaged before he left for duty in England, and after his death, she kept a pair of his shoes to remember him by. The last I spoke with her, she still had them in a shoebox.

Always a little more adventurous than the rest, Joe was one of the first of his peers to obtain a drivers license. He made good use of this privilege, and earned a rather decent wage delivering food for a local grocer who his father knew. This allowed him to see Donna regularly, since her house was located along one of his delivery routes.

One day in-between work and leisure, Joe took his brother Bob downtown to have an original Orange Julius. In 2002, Bob took me to have my first Orange Julius; a gesture that meant so much to me, that I think the tradition will continue in my own family. While we drank our Orange Juliuses in 2002, Bob told me mischievous stories of their childhood together.

Occasionally on warm summer nights Bob and Joe would crawl out of an upstairs bedroom window onto the porch roof, slide down one of the drain pipes, and escape downtown to meet with friends and enjoy a late night adventure. It was fun until their parents got wise and put a stop to it.

Even as a teenager though, Joe was serious about the future, and knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life. He hoped to be a pilot, and one day fly for Boeing.

Part 2. Training For War

“Little Joe” Noyes enlisted in the Washington Army National Guard on September 17th 1940. He entered the service as a Sergeant (E-5), and his original enlistment documents record his height as 5 feet, 4 inches, and his weight as 125 pounds. For some unknown reason his civilian occupation is recorded as being an actor. A likely story, Joe!

On December 7th 1941, Joe was assigned to Fort Lewis for an exercise. An anxious Donna convinced a friend to drive her an hour south, to visit him. They were both concerned that he would be called up immediately, and sent overseas to help with the war. They were relieved to hear the rumors were false, but it turns out it just wasn’t his time yet.

When the opportunity unexpectedly presented itself in 1942, Joe happily volunteered to be a Flying Sergeant. Supposedly this meant he would fly airplanes from the factory to a delivery point. He figured this was a relatively safe job, and he would still be able to fly. It was a win-win situation for him!

His relatively safe wartime plan was short lived however. Joe Noyes was part of a small group of non-commissioned officers who were selected to become co-pilots on the mighty B-17 Flying Fortress. To his amazement, he was promoted nearly overnight from Sergeant, to the newly created rank of Flight Officer, and sent off to flight training at Santa Ana Army Air Base.

At Santa Ana Army Air Base, Aviation Cadet Noyes started his flying career by completing initial classification and pre-flight school. The days were tediously long, and many men were eliminated from the cadet program for medical and psychological reasons. Some guys just weren’t pilot material. Once the Aviation Cadets received their classifications, they started classes on subjects like aircraft identification and Morse Code. Their training emphasized that the men were to be officers first. Being a pilot was considered only a secondary priority. Devoted to the opportunity to fly, Joe easily continued through the indoctrination process.

Following his time at Santa Ana Army Air Base, Joe proceeded next to primary, basic, and advanced flight training. He proudly received his first solo flight certification at the Hancock College of Aeronautics on May 14th 1942.

Joe was in “S” flight, class 42K at the Lemoore Army Flying School in California, as well as class 42-K at Luke Field, in Phoenix, Arizona. The designation 42K meant he was in the last class to graduate in the year 1942. Sadly, Class 42-K lost two men during training: Aviation Cadet John E. Hunter, and Aviation Student Vernon M. Houlihan. Joe made a brief note under their memoriam in his class book, “These two boys spun in. Too bad.” Unfortunately it was only the start. Joe would see more than his fair share of death over the next year.

Duly pushing forward, eventually “Little Joe” Noyes was permanently assigned to the 95th Bomb Group, which was sent overseas and stationed out of Horham Airbase, England.

Prior to leaving American soil, the 95th Bomb Group assembled in Rapid City, South Dakota, and from there Joe wrote his parents a letter that I believe shows his true character, as a young man who never forgot the loving family he left behind. In a letter dated January 3rd 1943, Joe informed his mother and father that he was sending his brother Bob $10.00, and starting an allotment with First National Bank, for another $125.00 a month.

“It will be a joint account in your name so you can draw money any time you need it. And so you won’t have any trouble getting it if anything ever happens. The allotment won’t started until March. I want to have plenty of money to get home on or to send for you if I cant get home…”

Part 3. Far Away

Flying with the 334th Bomb Squadron, Joe Noyes was Harry Conley’s favorite co-pilot. Reportedly, he was too short to see out the cockpit window, so he had to sit on top of a pillow.

After proving himself to Harry, as a competent aviator, he gained valuable experience flying the B-17 into combat over France and Germany. Joe was also the first co-pilot in the 95th Bomb Group to check out as a first-pilot, and take over a crew. Harry Conley believed he was one of the most outstanding formation flyers in the entire theater of operations.

Immersed in the whirlwind of war, Joe soon found himself only a few missions short of going home, and marrying Donna. His mind was so full of promise and hope, that one day he said to Flight Officer Paul E. Perceful, that he “really thought he would make it!” If only it were so.

On September 15th 1943 the B-17-F 42-3266 piloted by Flight Officer Joseph H. Noyes was seen returning to the English coast in formation. About 20 miles out, the ship left the formation in control with all engines operating, and was not seen after that.

Headquarters, 95th Bomb Group (H), September 17th 1943

Part 4. The Last Mission

Joe took off that day to fly on Harry Conley’s right wing. By all accounts, shortly after takeoff he developed a faulty engine and had to return to Horham Airbase. Characteristic of Joe’s persistence, where another pilot would have remained on the ground and called it a day, Joe actually took another plane and caught up with the formation. At this time the formation had been filled in by extra ships, so he proceeded to join another group.

As the 95th Bomb Group came away from the target, and crossed the enemy coast “homeward bound,” Joe tagged on to the rear of the formation, and his ship was positively identified by crew members flying nearby. All four engines were operating according to their reports. The formation was not under attack, and no distress signal was heard. It wasn’t even until after Harry Conley landed, that he discovered “Little Joe” was missing.

Joe’s body was the only one recovered. He had just celebrated his 22nd birthday. He happened to wash ashore in a little French fishing village, and was buried overseas until his mother started writing congressmen and senators, and had him returned to Seattle. “Little Joe” now lays peacefully at Calvary Cemetary.

Really, Mrs. Noyes, the day I turned my crew over to Joe was one of the proudest days of my life. I have come to regard Joe as a brother. We have been so close these past 9 months. He is a great boy! He is the possessor of a personality and an infectious grin that makes him a favorite of everyone that ever met him. Of all the crews we have lost from the group, never have the boys here at the base been so downhearted as when we learned that “Little Joe” was missing.

-Harry Conley, September 29th 1943

Part 5. Rest In Peace

The men on board B-17-F 42-3266 were Joseph H. Noyes, Seattle, Washington, David F. Prees, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Frank A. Roth, Union City, New Jersey, Rex A. Rice, Anderson, South Carolina, Billie E. Clapper, Erie, Pennsylvannia, Edgar A. Lajoie, Providence, Rhode Island, Robert H. Willis, Carteret, North Carolina, Raymond L. Provost, Orange, Texas, Daniel J. Fabritz, Hometown Unknown, William L. Cochran, Hometown Unknown.

If you recognize any of these names, or even if you currently live in any of these cities, I would love for you to contact me at theflightofficerproject@gmail.com