Legacy of the “Bloody Hundredth”, 100th Bomb Group, USAAF

B-17 “Badger’s Beauty,” LN-T, 42-30604.

 

by Chuck Dunning

Somewhere in England. January 1992. We nav­i­gated our rented car through the narrow country roads. The gray winter sky met the green farm­land in a hazy pattern. The air was cold, but a pen­e­trat­ing more than a biting chill. It was not raining, but the air was heavy with mist, re­quir­ing an occasional swipe of the wind­shield wipers. As the farms, vil­lages and pastures went by, it seemed as though time had changed very little here. It could be 1992 … or 1942.

Our destination that winter day was the 100th Bomb Group Memorial Museum, located outside the tiny vil­lage of Thorpe Abbots, about 80 miles north­east of Lon­don. The mu­seum is virtually all that is left intact of the more than 300 build­ings covering 500 acres that once comprised Station 139, one of the over a hundred airfields in eastern Eng­land used by units of the Eighth Air Force of the United States Army during World War II.

From June of 1943, when the 100th Bomb Group arrived in England, until November of 1945, Thorpe Abbots was home to the 100th Bomb Group, known then and now as “The Bloody Hun­dredth.” Although the 100th Bomb Group did not suffer the highest losses of the groups in the Eighth, they did suffer some of the most spec­tac­u­lar ones. Names like Regensburg, Bremen, Munster, and Berlin became part of the leg­end of “The Bloody Hun­dredth.” On missions to these cities they lost from one-third to half of their planes. On the Munster mis­sion in October of 1943, only one of thirteen planes sent out came back to Thorpe Abbots. Yet, in spite of these tremendous losses, the group was never turned back. They kept on flying. Often a day or two af­ter these losses of men and planes, the group would be back in the air, return­ing to the same tar­get. His­to­ri­ans feel that the “Bloody Hundredth” has become the best known of Army Air Force com­bat units because they per­son­i­fied the image of the dashing pi­lots in their Flying Fortresses fight­ing their way across the sky against an enemy de­ter­mined to stop them.

As we followed the small, bomb-shaped di­rec­tional signs, evidence of Thorpe Abbots past came into view. On our left, the skeleton of a hangar poked through the trees. The country road crossed a section of the pe­rim­e­ter taxiway, used this day by two pheasants instead of B‑17s. The former control tower came into view, looking like a sol­i­tary shep­herd waiting for the return of the flock. The mu­seum, which charges no ad­mis­sion, is lo­cated in the tower and three other buildings.

Mike Harvey is Chairman of the 100th Bomb Group Association, U.K., and Curator of the mu­seum. On the day of our visit, he was in the tower, working on some wiring while Glenn Miller’s “Moonlight Serenade” played softly over the loud­speak­ers. They are open now, he says, because the off season is when he and his group of about a dozen volunteers do most of their restoration and maintenance. “We get about ten thousand visitors a year here,” says Harvey. “Maybe fifteen per cent are Amer­i­cans, but we’ve had folks from all over the world. They are all curious to see what went on here fifty years ago.”

Mike’s involvement with Thorpe Abbots and the 100th Bomb Group began in 1977. Born and raised to the north, his career in con­struc­tion has included the dem­o­li­tion of many wartime fa­cil­i­ties such as Thorpe Abbots. When he discovered the derelict control tower, he and local resident Sam Hurry, one of the Thorpe Abbots youngsters that spent quite a bit of time hanging around the Yanks during the war, decided to do something about it. “I was afraid,” Harvey said, “that if we weren’t careful soon we’d have nothing left with which to re­mem­ber these brave boys and what they did.”

With that motivation, the 100th Bomb Group Me­mo­rial Association was founded. A 999-year lease was arranged with the property owner at the rent of one pound sterling per year and work was begun clear­ing the site and bringing the tower back to its original con­di­tion. It was a long proc­ess and in the early stages Mike, Sam and the other small cadre of volunteers raised much of the necessary money from film show­ings, raffles, and other local activities. The 100th Bomb Group Association in the United States also donated gen­er­ously and physical assistance came from mod­ern day descendants of the “Bloody Hundredth,” members of the U.S. Air Force stationed at nearby Mildenhall.

It took nearly four years, but finally on 25 May 1981 the res­to­ra­tion was complete and the museum officially was opened by Major Hor­ace Varian (Ret.), then Sec­re­tary of the 100th As­so­ci­a­tion in the U.S. and former Group Ad­ju­tant.

Inside the main entrance to the museum is a wall of photographs showing the process of res­to­ra­tion that took this crumbling shell of a building and brought it back to the way it must have looked on 9 June 1943. At about 2:00 p.m., forty-two B-17s of the 100th Bomb Group, just arrived in England, touched down on the new runways and joined their ground echelon at the not yet com­pleted base.

Museum volunteer Ken Everett was thirteen years old and living in the nearby village of Dickle­burgh when the Americans arrived. He doesn’t remember the ac­tual arrival of the group, but his first rec­ol­lec­tion of them is one that remains vivid to this day. “I was riding my bike home from school in early July when I looked up to see an American bomber taking off. As I watched, the plane banked to the right and lost al­ti­tude, crash­ing in a terrible explosion not 300 yards from me.”

Everett said the Americans were regular vis­i­tors to the nearby vil­lages, but it was mostly the ground crews the locals got to know. “My father became very friendly with a number of the Amer­i­cans,” he recalls. “but we had little to do with the air crews. Between training and mis­sions, they had to spend much more time on the base. When they had time off, they usually went to Lon­don or to rest homes maintained in the coun­try by the Army, called ‘flak houses’.” Everett added an­other sobering thought: “Dad also didn’t get too close to the fliers because he said you knew they could go out one day and not come back.”

On this day, Ken Everett was taking time off from his nearby farm to do some painting in what used to be a storage building. Adjacent to the tower, this build­ing, plus another storage building and a reconstructed Nissen hut comprise the mu­seum. The Nissen hut houses a coffee and gift shop. In the building Everett is painting are dis­played various pieces of wrecked bombers, many unearthed when parts of the former base are ex­ca­vated. In one cor­ner is an aircraft engine, its twisted propeller still attached. There are also tires, landing gear assem­bly and other assorted airplane parts. Propped up in a corner is the hor­i­zon­tal sta­bi­lizer of a B-17, pep­pered with holes from anti-aircraft shells or a Ger­man fighter.

Displayed over the doorway is some genuine GI art. Two paintings of the female form are captured forever on plywood that perhaps graced a barracks or officers club fifty years ago. Mike Harvey told how he found one of them in a nearby pub, used as a fireplace cover. Be­cause much of the “art” was painted directly onto the walls of the temporary wartime buildings, it has been lost as the structures have been demolished. The museum has been col­lect­ing photographs of this wall art from the area and there is currently an attempt to preserve the il­lus­tra­tions by care­fully dismantling the walls before demolition and reassembling them elsewhere.

The tower itself has a number of rooms fea­tur­ing memorabilia of the days when it was occu­pied by the “Bloody Hundredth.” There is a large, detailed model of the base as it looked in its active days. Displayed on the walls and in cases are other ar­ti­facts unearthed during ex­ca­va­tion. There is an ex­ten­sive collection of uniforms, medals, and other memorabilia donated by vet­er­ans and their families. The uniform collection ranges from com­plete flying suits to dress uni­forms and mechanics fa­tigues.

Everywhere there are photographs. Pho­to­graphs of men like Colonel Beirne Lay, Jr., a headquarters of­fi­cer who occasionally flew with the Hundredth as an observer. His experiences later became part of the novel and film “Twelve O’clock High.” Photos of pilots like Major Rob­ert Rosenthal, who, as the single survivor of the fateful Munster mission, went on to fly fifty-two mis­sions from Thorpe Abbots and be­come the most decorated bomber pilot in the Eighth Air Force. There are pictures of crews and planes like “Picklepuss.” According to legend, this plane unknowingly lowered its landing gear during the Regensburg mission. Ger­man fighters, think­ing this a sign of surrender, pulled alongside and were es­cort­ing the bomber to their base when the gunners opened fire. The rumor was that this act so enraged the German pilots that they sought vengeance against the group, explaining the high cas­u­alty rate. History has proven that the plane responsible for the incident was not “Picklepuss” but a plane from another group.

There’s also “Laden Maiden” and its extra crew member, a tiny North African donkey named “Mohammed.” It seems the crew, return­ing from Re­gensburg via North Africa, radioed the Thorpe Abbots tower that they needed as­sist­ance upon land­ing for a “frozen ass.” Rescue crews were met by a shivering and frightened “Mohammed.” Unfor­tu­nately the cold, damp English climate did not agree with “Mohammed” and he expired soon after.

Looking at these yellowing photographs inspires a certain curiosity. The lucky young men behind the smil­ing faces are now into their seventies, many retired after ca­reers as soldiers, lawyers, educators, ex­ec­u­tives or crafts­men. The not so lucky ones may still be close by, among the 3,812 Americans buried 50 miles away at the Cam­bridge American Cemetery and Memorial.

The tower is said to be haunted, with ghostly sight­ings dating before the end of the war. One such leg­end, “Eddie the Ghost,” caused such concern among the soldiers that the base com­mand­ing of­fi­cer decreed that any mention of “Eddie” would be cause for imme­di­ate court-martial.

Mike Harvey smiles. He’s heard of this and the stories of cold winds blowing through the tower on oth­er­wise still summer days. He knows of people hearing the sounds of aircraft engines in empty fields. There is the legend of the ghostly pilot, dressed in a complete flying suit, staring out the first floor window of the tower.

Another volunteer, Ron Batley, has his own story. “I was working in the tower, before we’d done much re­build­ing, when I felt a very sudden cold chill and the feeling that someone else was in the room. But, since we’ve rebuilt the tower, I’ve noticed none of that.”

The project most on the minds of the Thorpe Ab­bots volunteers that day was the return of “The Bloody Hun­dredth” to Thorpe Abbots over the 4th of July. They had a spectacular two-day celebration of memorial services, reunions, bar­be­cue and big-band dance planned for the return­ing veterans.

The reunion was part of a massive effort that sum­mer and fall on the part of the English to cel­e­brate the fiftieth anniversary of the Eighth Air Force’s arrival in England. Called “Return to England, 1942-1992,” it was a rec­og­ni­tion of what the Yanks and Brits shared fifty years ago and an expression of the lasting friend­ships forged over those trying times.

The Thorpe Abbots reunion in July was termed a success. According to Mike Harvey in a letter re­ceived later, “...there were one or two sleepless nights, but all around a very successful reunion.” Over two hundred vet­er­ans of the 100th Bomb Group returned to Thorpe Abbots and this royal welcome.

As British Prime Minister John Major wrote in an open letter to American veterans: “Since the Normans arrived in 1066 there has been only one significant ‘invasion’ of England. It was a friendly invasion by half a million American servicemen who came here as our Allies in the dark days of World War II. The many friendships that resulted have helped sustain the Anglo-American alliance that has stood firm for a half a cen­tury.”

This is why Mike Harvey, Sam Hurry and their group spent four years restoring a crumbling old build­ing. Their sense of dedication is reflected in their enthu­si­asm and genuine friend­li­ness. Sam Hurry says, “How do you repay a debt when so many are gone? The only thing you can do is leave something behind... to let them know you re­mem­ber.”

Ron Batley, who was celebrating his 46th birth­day on the day we visited put it even more suc­cinctly. “If these boys hadn’t come over here and done what they did, we might all have been on the other side of the Berlin Wall.”

Appendix

The following commendation, presented to the 100th Bomb Group (Heavy) by General Curtis LeMay on 23 April 1944, goes a long way toward spelling out the group’s early days at Thorpe Ab­bots:

R E S T R I C T E D

Headquarters 3rd Bombardment Division

APO 559

23 April 1944

SUBJECT: Commendation

TO: Commanding Officer, 100th Bombardment Group (H), AAF Station 139, APO 559, U.S. Army

It is my pleasure and privilege officially to com­mend the officers and men of the 100th Bom­bard­ment Group (H) and all units serving therewith for their out­stand­ing achieve­ment in successfully com­plet­ing between 25 June 1943 and 13 April 1944 one hundred (100) heavy bom­bard­ment missions against the enemy. Carrying the war home to Germany with unprecedented fury in spite of the world’s most concentrated anti-aircraft and fighter de­fenses, our bombers and crews are gradually, but inev­i­ta­bly, breaking the Nazi war machine and the enemy’s will to fight.

In less than three weeks, from 4 to 24 July 1943, your bombing wrought considerable de­struc­tion on the U-boat pens at La Pallice, the repair factory and air depot at Le Bourget, Paris, and the U-boat and refu­el­ing base at Trondheim, Norway, where in one minute, three years of the enemy’s work was blasted to ruin. At Re­gensburg, on 17 August 1943, the Me 109 plants, pro­duc­ing one-third of Ger­many’s fighter planes, was de­stroyed. Results on the Arado FW 190 factory on 9 October 1943 proved that Marien­burg was one of the best daylight bomb­ing jobs of the war. Accuracy again characterized your bomb­ing at Sch­weinfurt on 14 Oc­to­ber 1943, wrecking the works producing about 65% of Ger­many’s ball bearings. Requiring expert nav­i­ga­tion to strike a small, distant target, on 16 No­vem­ber 1943, the 100th Group com­bined with others in crippling seriously the hydro-electric plant at Rjukan, Nor­way, an important source of vital chemicals for Nazi munitions. With ut­most skill, severe damage was inflicted upon the Bauer and Schauerte works, a target of opportunity, at Neuss, on 5 January 1944, which supplied the enemy with about 50% of its high quality bolts and nuts. On 4 March 1944, re­fus­ing to be turned back when all the 1st Bom­bard­ment Division and twelve groups of their division were unable to get through, the 100th Group with three others pushed on to Berlin for the first daylight bom­bard­ment of that target by American heavy bomb­ers, a feat which already has been heralded as a turn­ing point in the devastating aerial assault against Ger­many. After participating in four ad­di­tional attacks on Berlin on 6, 8, 9, and 22 March 1944, the 100th proved its great endurance and fortitude from 26 March to 13 April 1944 by send­ing its bombers and crews aloft for ten suc­ces­sive missions in eighteen days.

The success of your bombing operations tes­ti­fies indisputably to the meticulous care with which the mis­sions have been planned and ex­e­cuted and to the dis­ci­pline, skill and gallantry of your combat and ground personnel. Commended alike are the officers and men now present for duty and those whose absence is keenly regretted. To you and to them are due eternal praise and gratitude for heroic ac­com­plish­ment in battles well fought, worthy of the high­est traditions of the Army of the United States.

I am confident that you will bring added honor to yourselves and your country in the future great air en­gage­ments which must be fought to bring our common endeavor to a victorious conclusion.

Curtis E. LeMay, Major General, U.S. Army, Commanding

349th Bomb Squadron patch.

350th Bomb Squadron patch.

351st Bomb Squadron patch.

418th Bomb Squadron patch.

Runway at Thorpe Abbott airbase, Suffolk, England, 1981.

Control tower at Thorpe Abbott airbase, Suffolk, England, 1981.

Bronze plaque affixed to the control tower at the Thorpe Abbott airbase in Suffolk, England, in May 1981.

Bomb storage bay at Thorpe Abbott Airbase, Suffolk, England, 1944.

American armorer of the 100th Bomb Group, at a bomb storage bay at Thorpe Abbott, Suffolk, England, 1944.

B-17G (“Fools Rush In”?) of 100th Bomb Group on hardstand at Thorpe Abbott airbase, Suffolk, England.

B-17 “Fools Rush In” of 100th Bomb Group at Thorpe Abbott Airbase, Suffolk, England.

B-17 “Laden Maiden” of the 349th Bomb Squadron.

B-17 “Laden Maiden” of the 349th Bomb Squadron.

B-17 “The BigAssBird II” of the 349th Bomb Squadron.

100th Bomb Group of the Eighth Air Force attacks Schweinfurt, Germany.

B-17 bombers attack Schweinfurt, Germany, 17 August 1943.

An industrial facility in Czechoslovakia is bombed by the USAAF.

Photo of Frankfurt at the end of hostilities. It is part of the USAF project to determine the effect of the air war. Taken late 1945.

B-17 top turret.

B-17 down near Berlin on 24 May 1944. Four of the crew including the pilot, Roger G. Roeder, were KIA. German civilians are shown examining the wreckage.

Flak damage to the tail of “Squawkin’ Hawk.”

"Aircraft down."

B-17 “Cap’n Crow.”

B-17 “Torchy II” and crew in North Africa after the Regensburg Shuttle Mission.

B-17 “Bachelor’s Heaven” after crash at Felixstone, November 1944.

“Heaven Sent” with her ground crew at Thorpe Abbotts.

“Heaven Sent” with her crew immediately after landing from a mission over Germany.

B-17G-BO 42-31968 "Miss Irish" coded LN-D of the 350th BS/100th BG.

B-17G-35-BO serial 42-31968, coded LN-D of the 350th BS/100th BG. Named "Miss Irish", she suffered a direct hit in the radio room on a No Ball mission to Mimoyecques on 19 March 1944; the radio operator Ed Walker fell from the ship and was lost, and gunner Frank "Bud" Buschmeier managed to splice the damaged elevator and rudder control cables back together by hand with square knots. The aircraft limped back to Raydon with no further injury to the crew; the ship was written off after only three missions.

A battle damaged B-17G Flying Fortress (serial number 42-31968) of the 100th Bomb Group. March 19, 1944.

Flak damage to the 350th’s “Miss Irish,” LN-D, 42-31968, March 19, 1944.

B-17G 42-31968 'Miss Irish' returned from a mission to Marquise/ Mimoyecques, France and made an emergency landing at Raydon after taking a direct hit from an 88mm in the radio room on March 19, 1944.

Crew member in the nose of a 350th Bomb Squadron B-17.

“Boss Lady,” 41-02611, LN -E.  B-17 flown by Lt. Henry Rosine.

351st “Piccadilly Lily”  with Thomas Murphy’s flight and ground crew.

B-17 “Nine Little Yanks and a Jerk” with flight and ground crew.

A B-17 Flying Fortress (EP-E, serial number 42-31767) nicknamed "Our Gal Sal" of the 100th Bomb Group at Mount Farm.

A B-17 Flying Fortress (EP-E, serial number 42-31767) nicknamed "Our Gal Sal" of the 100th Bomb Group at Mount Farm.

“Our Gal Sal” 42-31767 EP-E of the 351st coming home.

B-17 42-31767 "Our Gal Sal" and her flight and ground crews. Second from right kneeling is Robert J. Shoens, her pilot. Standing L to R: Nels Davidson (gnd), Arnold Schluter (gnd), Ed Silverstone, Virgil Warders, William Wright, Don Hammond, Charles Killebrew (gnd), Frank Stevens (painted "Our Gal Sal" and mission bombs), Dewey Nelson (gnd), Harold Wildrick (crew chief) Front: Don Blair, Glenn Hudson, Duncan Shand, Bob Shoens, Bill Eresman.

"Our Gal Sal" B-17G-30-BO 42-31767, 100th Bomb Group, 351st Bomb Squadron, Thorpe Abbotts, England. Frank Stevens painted the artwork for this B-17G onto canvas which was then glued onto the side of the plane producing one of the largest examples of appliqué seen in airplane nose art. Once again, Stevens used his considerable skill to produce a fine study of the female form dressed in the thinnest of swimsuits to avoid a confrontation with the censors. The title had been based on the popular movie starring Rita Hayworth—one of the many GI pin-up stars of the era. Arriving in January 1944, its first combat raid was on February 3rd. It went on to complete more missions than any other Fort flown out of Thorpe Abbotts—135. More than 500 crew men served in this plane before it was returned to the USA and ultimate scrapping at Kingman, Arizona.

"Our Gal Sal" port side.

Ground crew member with "Our Gal Sal".

"Our Gal Sal" 42-31767 EP-E.

“Our Gal Sal” in Russia.

B-17G Flying Fortress nicknamed "Our Gal Sal" of the 100th Bomb Group sitting in the sun at Kingman Arizona in 1947 waiting for the smelter to do what no German Fighter or Flak could.

“Duffy’s Tuffy’s,” 43-38945.

“Wolf Pack,” 42-30061, LD T, in Africa after Regensberg, 17 August 1943.

100th B-17 departing the target area at Regensberg, 17 August 1943. The river below this aircraft is most probably the Danube.

“Mille Zig Zig,” John Brady pilot. Photo taken from “Wolf Pack,” by the pilot Bob Wolff, Regensberg, 17 August 1943

Landing in North Africa after Regensberg, 17 August 1943.

B-17s refueling in North Africa after Regensberg, 17 August 1943. These are early F variants, considered by many as the most beautiful of the series.

The results of a direct flak hit in the fuel cell area.

“Picklepuss,” 42-30063.

Top “Laden Maiden,” second from top “Horny,” center “Wolf Pack,” and lower “Mugwump.”

“Bastard’s Bungalow,” 42-3508.

“Bastard’s Bungalow,” 42-3508.

Gabreski flies a buzz job in his P-47 across Thorpe Abbotts. B-17 is 42-3508 LD-P Jersey Lily /Bastards Bungalow II.

B-17 42-3508 LD-P Jersey Lily/Bastard's Bungalow II " on hardstand at Thorpe Abbotts. As Bastard's Bungalow the aircraft received battle damage on March 6, 1944, and was shot down on March 18, 1944.

B-17 Bastard's Bungalow, Lt William Green Crew: Standing L-R: Jack Jensen, Jack Hamilton, John Joyce, Bill Green; Kneeling L-R: Sanford Tisdale, Richard Anderegg, Roman Biran, Robert Valentick, Harry Waskewicz, and Leroy Leist.

B-17 44-8183 OE-U 335th BS/95th BG PFF flying out of Horham. Aircraft assigned to the 100th BG 418th BS LD-Q in November 1944.

B-17 PFF (Pathfinder) 44-8183 LD-Q.

B-17 PFF (Pathfinder) 44-8183 LD-Q.

B-17s of several groups on the flight line at Thorpe Abbotts after VE Day. 44-8183 in the foreground is from the 418th.

100th Bomb Group B-17 flying a Chowhound mission in May 1945 dropping food parcels over Holland to the starving Dutch population.