Aaron Baumgarten was born in 1922 in New York, New York, the fifth of the five sons in his family. His father worked in a knit goods factory, and later owned a grocery store where both his immigrant parents worked. Baumgarten said the family didn't have much beyond the basic necessities during the Great Depression. The family was Jewish and had relatives living in Poland, so they had a strong interest in the political situation in Europe. Baumgarten spoke Yiddish and he attended a Jewish school where the impending war was an emotional topic and President Roosevelt [Annotator's Note: Franklin Delano Roosevelt, 32nd President of the United States] was a "hero." He was coming out of a movie theater in Times Square when he heard the news of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. The place was alive with excitement, with everyone watching the news on the big rotating screen, and he knew his life would change drastically. Everyone "was caught up in this thing," according to Baumgarten, and he made up his mind to interrupt his high school education in October 1942 and join the military. His studies might have led Baumgarten to a career as a rabbi, and he could have taken advantage of a clerical deferment, but he wanted "to do something" and volunteered for the United States Army Air Corps, like his older brother. Baumgarten was inducted at Camp Upton, New York, and went to Jefferson Barracks in Saint Louis, Missouri for basic training. Training was rigorous, and Baumgarten didn't like it, but he understood why it was necessary.

From basic training, Aaron Baumgarten was sent to Great Falls, Montana which, at the time, was one of the headquarters of the Alaska Air Command, and part of the greater Air Transport Command (ATC). The ATC was a wing of the Air Force that dealt primarily with transportation of cargo and material, and had its own hierarchy and administration. Baumgarten began his ATC service at Edmonton, Alberta, Canada where he took basic training with the Royal Canadian Air Force. After that, he was assigned to Fairbanks, Alaska, and was excited that he would be taking his first ever flight to get there. About 25 men boarded a C-47 [Annotator's Note: Douglas C-47 Skytrain cargo aircraft] for the journey, and sat lined against the walls of the fuselage with their barracks bags tied down in the center aisle. They were airborne when the pilot discovered a hydraulic fluid leak, and determined to return to Edmonton. The passengers were getting "piecemeal" information while the plane flew over the airbase for over four hours to use up fuel, jettisoning their luggage every time they were over the field. The soldiers watched as ambulances arrived, and began praying. The pilot needed all of the runway to land, because he had no brakes, and couldn't be sure of the landing gear locking; he came in low, ran into a bank, and shut off the motor. Nobody was hurt and no equipment was lost, but the shaken men were given a pass into town, and instructed not to talk about the incident. The next day, Baumgarten was among those who were game enough to try again, and this time they boarded a C-46 [Annotator's Note: Curtis C-46 Commando cargo aircraft] flown by a command pilot, a colonel. But the weather was lousy, and this flight, too, suffered a malfunction. It had to return to base, and crash landed into a snow bank. Nobody was hurt, but the plane was badly damaged, and the incident required an extensive report that blamed the pilot who overrode operations and took off against advice. At that point Baumgarten was thinking, "Let me out of this air force," but didn't really have a choice. He finally made it to Alaska some days later, and said the story is only humorous in retrospect; the memory of his first two flight experiences has always stayed with him.

Aaron Baumgarten pointed out that he was serving in the Air Transport Command (ATC) during the era of Lend-Lease, when America was furnishing Russia with food, fuel and materiel to open a second front against the Nazis in Europe. At Ladd Field in Fairbanks, Alaska, Baumgarten helped with the transfer of American-built C-47s [Annotator's Note: Douglas C-47 Skytrain cargo aircraft] and other aircraft, painted with the red Russians star and loaded with goods, to the Russians pilots arriving from Siberia who ferried them back. Fairbanks was also the lifeline between Washington D.C. and Moscow [Annotator's Note: Moscow, Russia], and diplomats from both countries were hosted there while traveling between the capitals. Although there were interpreters for formal occasions, Baumgarten picked up a little of the Russian language, and found the interaction interesting. But Baumgarten was disappointed in his posting, because he really wanted to serve in Europe. He "grabbed a chance" to go to a school in "Priorities and Traffic" in West Palm Beach, Florida, looking forward to the change of climate, and the possibility of a posting overseas. When Baumgarten reported to base after an arduous flight, he was issued a pass, and went to the beach where, exhausted, he fell asleep in the sand. When he woke he could not move, and had to yell for help. Although his condition was considered critical, Baumgarten said he was humiliated during his stay in hospital to have a diagnosis of "sunburn" alongside the badly wounded veterans. His classes were delayed, but he finally finished, and was dismayed that the wording on his orders required his return to Fairbanks.

The first glimpse Aaron Baumgarten had of Alaska was from the air, and he was impressed with its pristine vastness. Although he didn't like Fairbanks [Annotator's Note: Fairbanks, Alaska] at the time because of the living conditions, he thought the people were nice, and worked part time for a newspaper in Fairbanks. He was apprenticed to the printer there, and did some proofreading, which he found helpful in his postwar life. It was the "land of the midnight sun," and he remembers playing baseball at midnight. During the early days of his posting, he teamed up with a guy from California who became a lifelong friend. Together they worked "shit details," and although the work wasn't very pleasant, the camaraderie made it bearable. Baumgarten admitted to having a left leaning political view, and while he was there he subscribed to a liberal newspaper, but learned that he was being "looked at" for his subversive literary material, and his Russian counterparts understood the implications. He was astounded that the Russians knew about such American activities, while he had no inkling of the Russian equivalents. Baumgarten remembers discussing pop culture, and bantering with the Russian enlisted men, teaching them rude American expressions.

He was a young kid, and Aaron Baumgarten didn't know what to expect from the Russians; he just knew that they were different. They had quite a bit of influence in the field, and once, when a Russian officer told a group of GIs [Annotator’s Note: government issue; also a slang term for an American soldier] that they would "get an investigation later," a buzz went around about what the matter could be. As it turned out, the man intended to say they would get an "invitation" later to a party the foreigners were throwing. Baumgarten mentioned that one of the GIs he served with became governor of the Alaska once it became a state. He described how, after the war, he went in on the coattails of his acquaintance, Bob Eagan, to a party at the Democratic Party Convention in Chicago [Annotator's Note: Chicago, Illinois] the year Adlai Stevenson ran for president. He also told of how the GIs would sometimes work on an experimental program being run by the University of Alaska, clearing brush and doing backbreaking fieldwork. A tragic incident he described concerned a native Alaskan who worked as a chauffeur for the Russians, and knew everybody on base. The man, who was reported as having last been seen swimming in a nearby lake, went missing, and a detachment that included Baumgarten and his buddy had to dredge the lake to retrieve the body. Baumgarten found it all very sad, and rumor had it that there was foul play. It made for a good mystery.

During the war, Aaron Baumgarten worried less about meeting up with the Japanese than he was of coming to a bad end from the failure of the American equipment, giving as an example his two near misses. He remembered ferrying some infantrymen from the Aleutian Islands, and later, when he was working as a flight traffic clerk, flying to and from various ports in the Yukon, as well as accompanying another GI [Annotator’s Note: government issue; also a slang term for an American soldier] from Special Services as he toured and lectured at various bases. Among his various duties as a flight traffic clerk were maintaining cargo lists, delivering classified mail, assisting in passenger boarding, and maintaining discipline. He once had to refuse boarding to a general because the plane was at capacity, and when the officer tried to pull rank, was gratified to rightfully deny him travel on that flight. Baumgarten didn't like the military culture or regimentation, and took his discharge in 1945, almost three years to the day from his entry into the armed forces. He went back to New York, New York where employment was scarce, and worked for a year in a "sweat shop" to get the money he needed to go to California. While there, he went to night school to earn his high school diploma through the public school system. His postwar career really started as a proofreader, working in printing shops and an ad agency. He later went into the insurance business with Prudential, then bought into a private agency where he worked until he retired. Asked about the influence the military had on his life decisions, Baumgarten said he treasures some of contacts and friendships he made while in the service, and added that "life is chancy," and it all worked out for him. Most memorable of his experiences during World War 2 was working with the Russians, which was culturally beneficial, and taught him that diversity is good.

It was patriotic duty that influenced Aaron Baumgarten to serve in World War 2 and, on a personal level, he felt he had to do his "little part" to hold some of the evil people accountable. Today, he is gratified that when the time came he was able to contribute to the extent he could and, because it was all he could offer, he gave his time. He does not feel that people can be complacent about freedom, and must do what is necessary to maintain it. He thinks that institutions like The National WWII Museum [Annotator's Note: in New Orleans, Louisiana] speak to a core issue and teach what Americans went through and why. He was not only interested in the war in Europe, but was actually situated on the Pacific side of the war, and was concerned about what went on there. At the time the atomic bomb was dropped, he thought it was a good thing; on reflection he doesn't like the idea at all. But he persisted in his strong feelings about the Nazis; he felt it was a terrible society that allowed the atrocities to happen, and that many in the civilian population participated. For a long time, Baumgarten would not purchase German goods of any kind. He read about the discrimination and humiliation of people, and was incensed with some of the sympathetic elements of the American people who supported the activity. He remembers a subtle type of prejudice against Jews when he was growing up, and when he was looking for a job, knew that a public utility wouldn't hire him. He never learned what happened to his relatives in Poland, only that they were rounded up and died at the hands of the Nazis. For the record, he is grateful for the renaissance of World War 2 memories, in gathering and preserving the stories of the veterans, and the interest in showing them the credit they deserve.