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    Tirbute to my Hero


    hunyadi

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    Last year my grandfather left this earth for a better place. He was my hero during my growing up and even more so for many other reasons as I grew older. Not all heros come from the battlefield. Joining the Army Air Corps on a whim and with the prospects of making good pay during the depression, he recieved his orders to report for duty on December 7th 1941. (He was on winter vacation from Texas Tech and as a farm boy from Missouri the farmers would all come into town on Sunday to get their mail and attend church) He was never a brash man - nor a real daring one. He excelled in the airplane and when everyone in his school longed to be in a fighter, he liked the prospects of a bomber as he would not be alone in the air. He trained on B-17s but when he recieved orders to the CBI theatre they were only flying B-24s. He was with the 10th Air Force bombing Japanese targets and acting as a slowly retreating shield for the British empire in India. His war was a forgotten war. Medals and promotions came slow. No Purple Hearts for the bombadier whose Norton Bombsight exploded when a 20mm shell hit it sending shrapnel into his face. No Silver Star for the waist gunner who put out a burning oxygen tank with his bare hands while standing on the cat walk with the bomb bay doors wedged open from the falk burst that caused the fire in the first place. (B-24s had a bad reputation for quickly becoming a buring ball of fire) There was little to cheer about as operationaly they sustained 110% losses from late 1942 to late 1943. They were not the Mighty 8th - they were the forgotten 10th. Credited to him was 42 combat missions, though in reviewing his log book there were 45. For his actions, for his valor he was only awarded the Distingusihed Flying Cross and one Air Medal. He returned from combat in early 1944 for an aircraft ferrying post in Michigan, but he was with his wife who had given birth to their first daughter while he was away. When reveiwing his personel file (I have the whole thing!) he was rated as an excelent pilot, but his commanding officer suggested both flying and ground duties as he was war wearied. By 1948 he left the military - discharged with severe arthritus of the spine. He left flying behind as well for the next 20 years. Too many friends had been killed and maimed - the lustre of flying had dimmed as he focused on caring for his wife, daughter and my father who came around shortly after his return. He lived the rest of his life in peace as an insurance agent. He made friends in the community - enoguh so that my father was afraid to do anything too stupid as he knew that his fahter would find out about it. He was a faithful man to his wife of over 60 years. Luckily I am now the caretaker of his wartime artifacts. He kept everything that he could keep - expcet his uniform and cap which was dutifully eaten by moths in the 1950's but he didnt throw it out until he had removed every patch and every device. Here is just a little to show you of my grandfather... First his wings that he wore through the war -

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    Here is his ship 'Old 20' - this is a shot taken of his craft as it returned from a mission in Sept of 1943. There is no nose art - in his squadron all of the aircraft that adoped nose art were all part of the 110% losses - his was the only crew that never had a KIA. So being superstitious - they declined the use of some gal on the nose - so she simply became known as 'Old 20'...

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    Thanks Chris - one of the best things that he left me when I was a kid about 14 years old was a book he wrote and privately published about his experiences in WW2 so I have the many many sotries behind the artifacts. Not photographed (yet?) is the pages of his diary that he kept describing every mission as well...

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