The term “Lack of Moral Fibre” was introduced into RAF
vocabulary in April 1940 and was ‘designed to stigmatize aircrew who refused to
fly without a medical reason.’ [1] While it is now most
commonly associated with ‘shell-shocked’ bomber crews, in fact aircrew from all
commands could be and were categorized as LMF in the course of the war. Humiliating
as the concept was, the myths about the treatment of LMF were more terrifying
than the facts.
The RAF entered the war confident that its volunteer aircrew,
all viewed as the finest human material available, would not suffer from any
crisis in morale. Yet already by January 1940, attrition rates of over 50% in
Bomber Command, triggered a crisis in confidence among commanders and crews. At
the same time, Coastal Command morale was undermined by unreliable engines and
unarmed aircraft that proved extremely vulnerable to Luftwaffe attack.
On March 21, 1940 the Air Member for Personnel met with senior
RAF commanders to develop a procedure for dealing with flying personnel who refused
to ‘face operational risks.’ The concern of these senior officers was that the
refusal to fly would become more widespread, debilitating the RAF. The RAF’s dilemma
was that flying was ‘voluntary,’ hence the refusal to fly was not technically a
breach of the military code.
The RAF needed an alternative means of punishing and deterring
refusals to fly on the part of trained aircrew. Furthermore, because of the
on-going crisis, the procedures for dealing with the problem were required immediately.
There was no time for lengthy study into the causes or best practices for
treatment. Over time the polices on LMF were modified significantly and
increasingly discredited. Yet it is telling that at the height of the Battle of
Britain, AVM Sir Keith Park strongly advocated the policy, emphasizing that aircrew
deemed LMF should ‘be removed immediately from the precincts of the squadron or
station.’[i]
Furthermore, while nowadays LMF is most commonly associated
with bomber crews, the statistics show a that only one third of LMF cases came
from Bomber Command. Surprisingly, fully a third came from Training Command, while
both Coastal and Fighter Commands also had their share of LMF cases. Fighter
Ace Air Commodore Al Deere describes in detail a case of a pilot from No 54
Squadron who avoided combat and was later ejected from the squadron for being “yellow.”[ii]
Fighter Ace Wing Commander Bob Doe records another incident towards the end of
the Battle of Battle of Britain in which a Squadron Leader conspicuously avoided
combat, but because the Squadron Leader was from a different squadron, no
action was taken.[iii]
For the men who continued flying operations, the fate of
those ‘expeditiously’ posted away from a squadron for LMF was largely shrouded
in mystery. Legends about LMF abound. During the war itself, it was widely believed
that aircrew found LMF were humiliated, demoted, court-martialed, and dishonorably
discharged. There were rumors of former aircrew being transferred to the
infantry, sent to work in the mines, and forced to do demeaning tasks. Aircrew expected to have their records and
discharge papers stamped “LMF” or “W” (for Waverer) with implications for their
post-war employment opportunities.
Long before the war was over, however, the very concept of
LMF was harshly criticized and increasingly discredited. In the post-war era,
popular perceptions conflated LMF with “shell shock” in the First World War and
with the more modern concept/diagnosis of Post Traumatic Shock
Disorder/Syndrome PTSD/S. In literature — from Len Deighton’s Bomber to Joseph
Heller’s Catch 22 — aircrew were increasingly depicted as victims of a
cruel war machine making excessive and senseless demands upon the helpless
airmen. Doubts about the overall efficacy of strategic bombing, horror stories depicting
the effects of terror bombing on civilians, and general pacifism in the
post-war era have all contributed to these cliches.
In reality, LMF was a more complex and nuanced issue. First,
although there are documented instances of aircrew being humiliated in a parade
during which flying and rank badges were stripped off, such public ceremonies
were extremely rare. The vast majority of references to such public spectacles are
second hand; that is, the witness heard about such procedures at a different
station or squadron. Historical analysis of the records, on the other hand,
show almost no evidence of widespread humiliation. Furthermore, over the course of the war, less than one percent of aircrew were posted
LMF, and of these the vast majority were partially or completely
rehabilitated. Only a tiny fraction were
actually designated LMF or the equivalent. (The term used for describing
aircrew deemed cowardly varied over time, including the terms “waverer” and
“lack of confidence.”) Furthermore, the process for determining whether aircrew
were LMF or not was far more humane than the myths of immediate and public
humiliation suggest.
While the decision to remove a member of aircrew from a unit
was an executive decision, applied when member of aircrew had “lost the
confidence of his commanding officer,” the subsequent treatment was largely
medical/psychiatric. Thus, while a Squadron Leader or Station Commander was
authorized — and expected! — to remove any officer or airman who endangered the
lives or undermined the morale of others by his attitude or behavior, a man
found LMF at squadron level was not automatically treated as such by the RAF
medical establishment.
On the contrary, RAF medical personnel were at pains to
point out that LMF was not a medical diagnosis at all! It was a term invented
by senior RAF commanders in order to deal with a phenomenon they observed — and
feared. In consequence, once a man had
been posted away from his active unit, he found himself inside the medical
establishment that employed Not Yet Diagnosed Nervous (NYDN) centers to examine and
to a lesser extent treat individuals who had “lost the confidence of their
commanding officers.”
The medical and psychiatric officers at the NYDN centers (of
which there were no less than 12) were at pains to understand the causes of any
breakdown. They did not assume the men sent to them were inherently malingerers
or cowards. On the contrary, as a result of their work they made a major
contribution to understanding — and helping the RAF leadership to understand —
the causes for a beak-down in morale. These included not only inadequate
periods of rest, but irresponsible leadership, lack of confidence in aircraft,
and issues of group cohesion and integration. As a result of their interviews
with air crew that had been posted LMF, for example, the medical professionals
were able to convince Bombing Command to reduce the number of missions per
tour and to exempt aircrew on second tours from the LMF
procedures altogether.
Meanwhile, more than 30% of the aircrew referred to NYDNs
returned to full operational flying (35% in 1942 and 32% in 1943-1945), another
5-7% returned to limited flying duties, and between 55% and 60% were assigned
to ground duties. Less than 2% were completely discharged.
In addition, there is considerable circumstantial evidence that
at the unit level, pains were taken to avoid the stigma of “LMF.” No one
understood the stresses of combat better than those who were subjected to them.
It was the comrades and commanders, who were themselves flying
operationally, who recognized both the symptoms and understood the consequences of flying stress.
These men largely sympathized with those who were seen to have done
their part. Certainly, men on a second tour of
operations were treated substantially differently — at both operational units
and at NYDNs — than men still in training or at the start of their first tour.
Fighter Ace Air Commodore Al Deere, DSO, OBE, DFC and Bar posed
the dilemma as follows: “The question ‘when does a man lack the moral courage
for battle?’ poses a tricky problem and one that has never been satisfactorily solved.
There are so many intangibles; if he funks once, will he next time? How many
men in similar circumstances would react in exactly the same way? And so on.
There can be no definite yardstick, each case must be judged on its merits as
each set of circumstances will differ.”[iv] (Photo below courtesy of Chris Goss)
While conditions varied over time, from station to station, and
from commander to commander, on the whole RAF flying personnel did not seek to
punish or humiliate a comrade who in the past had pulled his weight. Instead,
informal means of dealing with cases of men who “got the twitch” — other than
posting them LFM — were practiced. Precisely because such practices were
“informal” they are almost impossible to quantify, yet the specific cases
documented are almost certainly only the tip of the iceberg.
This is not to say that LMF policies did not have a powerful
impact on RAF culture. The fact that so many aircrew knew about LMF and had
heard rumors of humiliating practices for dealing with LMF demonstrates that the
possibility of being designated LMF was an ominous reality to aircrews. Because of the
draconian punishment expected based on the myths surrounding LMF, the threat of
being designated LMF acted as a deterrent to willful or casual malingering. Tragically,
the threat of humiliation may also have pushed some men to keep flying when
they had already passed their breaking point, leading to errors, accidents, and
loss of life.
Deere noted: “In my first tour [during the height of the
Battle of Britain], despite the many narrow escapes I was always confident that
I could come through alright. In contrast, throughout [a later tour], although
it was far less hectic, there was always uppermost in my mind the thought that
I would be killed….I don’t think I was any more frightened than previously, and
it can only be that I had returned to operations too soon after so many nerve-racking
experiences…. The result was a lack of confidence, not so much in my ability to
meet the enemy on equal terms, but in myself (or my luck).”[v]
He admitted that by the time he was relieved of his command and sent on a publicity
tour to the United States he was, in fact, overdue for another rest.
During the Second World War, psychiatric professionals increasingly
came to recognize that “courage was akin to a bank account. Each action reduced
a man’s reserves and because rest periods never fully replenished all that was
spent, eventually all would run into deficit. To punish or shame an individual
who had exhausted his courage over an extended period of combat was increasingly
regarded as unethical and detrimental to the general military culture.”[vi]
Yet we should not forget that behind the notion of LMF was
the deeply embedded belief that courage was the ultimate manly virtue and that
a man who lacked courage was inferior to the man who had it. RAF aircrew were
all volunteers. They were viewed and treated as an elite. Membership in any
elite is always dependent on the fulfilment of certain criteria. Since the age
of the Iliad courage has been — and remains — the most fundamental
characteristic expected of military elites around the world. And it probably
always will be.
A case of LMF is highlighted in and
contributes pivotally to the plot of “Where Eagles Never Flew.” You can see a video teaser of "Eagles" at: Where Eagles Never Flew Video
Buy now!
direct from Itasca or from Barnes and Noble
Buy on Amazon.com or Amazon.co.uk
[1] Edgar Jones, “LMF:
The Use of Psychiatric Stigma in the Royal Air Force during the Second World
War,” The Journal of Military history 70 (April 2006). 439
[i]
Jones, 446.
[ii]
Deere, Alan C. Nine Lives. Crecy Publishing. 1959. 111-119.
[iii]
Doe, Bob. Fighter Pilot. CCB Aviation Books, 2004. 44.
