Personnel

Dear 100th Foundation,

 

I have discovered a photo of my father, Eugene S. Hunt, who was with the 100th BG during the war. I know of two planes he flew on, The Piccadilly Lilly and the Nine Little Yanks and a Jerk. He may have flown on others but I do not know. In the photo I have attached he is the third man from the left (the second one standing). I do not know who any of the other men are but would certainly like to. I would also like to know if the plane they are standing in front of is one from the hundredth or if this is a photo from a school he attending before his assignment. Feel free to post this on your site if it applies to the Hundredth.  So sorry I should have said my father is the third person from the right. Thanks again, LHA

 

Thank you, 

 

Laura Hunt Angel 







Michael, 

 

I don't know of a diary, but he told us - daughters, one son, his wife and anybody else who would listen (LOL) his stories many times. Also, don't know if you got my correction, but my Dad is the third man from the right ( not the left -- got my wires crossed). 

 

I know that while flying he was what he called a "belly gunner". On his military papers it said he had five bronze stars and something about support during the Battle of Normandy, Battle of the Bulge and several other places that I can't remember. My brother has the papers and I should be seeing him next week. I am in Atlanta with my husband on a business trip but live in Western KY, where Dad was from. My brother is moving down this week from MI where we were all raised.

 

I think my dad got some of his flight training at Wendover, UT - he talked about that place a lot. And something about going to training someplace in MS, too. I will call my sisters and see what else they can remember.

 

Thanks again,

LHA







On Tue, Jun 16, 2009 at 7:59 PM,  wrote:



Did your Dad keep a Diary at all with these stories or a list of his missions.  Here is a question, what was his position on the Crew and what medals does he have?   You see that photo you sent, I believe that is Thomas Murphy on the left end.  

 

Michael Faley





 

In a message dated 6/16/2009 5:32:22 P.M. Pacific Daylight Time, laura@angel-family.com writes:

Michael,

 

Yes, the one you have in the Communications section is my father, but he flew with the 100th until a severe head injury grounded him and he was placed in communications. He was in Murphy's crew (and on another crew for a little while after that) but on the day of the fated Bremen mission he walked out to the tarmac, or whatever it was called back then, and one of the other guys noticed he had blood coming out of his ear. The doc grounded him and that was day the Piccaddilly Lilly went down. Sometime later, after he was put on another crew, somehow or other he was injured and had a chunk of shrapnel at the base of his skull and a metal plate somewhere in there. After that he couldn't fly anymore, although he did eventually get a pilot's license privately.

 

Do you know how I can find out more about the communications group? My Dad died 17 Oct 2005, and my Mom this past March. It seems like since we've lost them all of their old stories are coming back, especially Dad's war stories.

 

Thank you so much for getting back in touch. Just talking about his exploits makes us feel closer to him.

 

Sincerely,

 

LHA

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Dear Friends and Family,

 

I made an astonishing discovery this week, one that I didn't recognize for what it was until somebody let me in on the big secret. I just feel like I needed to brag about it a little, so please put up with me. 

 

I discovered this nice picture online of my Dad from WWII, so thought I would point him out to the 100th photo archivist who runs the site that I found it on. It seemed like a good thing to do in memory of my Dad, especially with Father's Day being so close. The photo is the first one here, and it shows my Dad with his flight crew. It's kind of blurry, and I had a second photo with Dad and one of the other guys in it that was clearer, so I sent that along too, telling the archivist that he could use it if he thought it applied.

 

The online photo was entitled "Thomas E. Murphy Crew #22". The plane was a B-17 Flying Fortress called the Piccadilly Lilly. Dad is the guy kneeling on the far left side. Next to him was his pilot, the Thomas E. Murphy guy. 

 

A short while after I sent the email to the archivist, I got a surprising response. 

 

On October 8, 1943, crew #22 of the Piccadilly Lilly set out on what all the guys were saying was a Big Mission. As Dad walked out to the plane that day, Thomas E. Murphy looked at him and said, "Hey, you've got blood coming out of your ear." Dad raised his hand up to his ear and, indeed, it came back bloody. He headed to the infirmary, where the doc told him he probably had an ear infection and all the vibrations from flying had caused his eardrum to burst. Dad was grounded that day.  

 

That was the last day he saw his crew.

 

You see, these guys were the ones that flew out on a mission to Bremen one day and never made it back. They are the ones that the movie, "Twelve O'Clock High" was made in honor of. They are the guys that the Germans despised so much they kept a special eye out for them. Of the Piccadilly Lilly, it has been said, "Without a doubt she is the most remembered bomber of WWII."

 

But all that my dad cared about was that they were his friends, and he lost them all on that day. He told us about his friends when we were all little, but we had no idea they were great heros, or how brave they (and my dad) were, or any of that stuff. We just knew they were Daddy's friends and he lost them. 

 

As the years went by he talked of them less and less, mostly because whenever he spoke of them he would begin to cry. But he would talk of some of his other friends. Some guy named Cowboy Roane who flew a donkey on his plane (we kids thought that was great!), and he'd sometimes mention names like Rosie Rosenthal, Chik Harding, and some crazy fellow named "Crankshaft". He spoke of a little girl who ran across the street to his outstretched arms, covering her with his head and shoulders until the bombs falling all around them stopped. Her entire family was lost that day as Daddy watched a bomb blow them away like so much dust, just like Daddy had lost his friends.

 

Later, Dad suffered a bad head injury and was grounded, so he worked in the radio room where he learned to copy a passable English accent and would play tricks on his buddies. But his favorite thing was bringing leftover chow to the English families, especially to the kids. He loved kids -- maybe that's why he and Mom had so many of us.

 

I was born twenty years after Daddy came home from the war, and it mostly just seemed like a good story to me. But this week I have begun learning the real story, the one that Daddy made so little comment on because he didn't want to cry and upset his children. 

 

He is gone now, and how I wish would could tell him how much I appreciate all that he and his friends went through! But I think he knows.

 

Happy Father's Day,

 

Laura Hunt Angel