78th Fighter Group
78th Fighter Group
Personal pictures, stories and web "links" submitted by 78th Fighter Group veterans, family and friends.
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Maj. Richard A. "Dick" Hewitt, 82nd Fighter Squadron,
9-16-43 to 7-20-45
Major Richard A. "Dick" Hewitt, 82nd Fighter Squadron. ( Source Credit: R.A. Hewitt, " Target of Opportunity - Tales and Contrails of the Second World War", self published, 2000, ISBN 0-9705180-5 )
Richard A. Hewitt, a second year college engineering student in New York State, like so many Americans after the December 7, 1941 Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, chose to volunteer for service to his country. He joined the Army Air Corps in February, 1942. As a member of the Army Aviation Cadet Class, 43-C, Dick was commissioned as a second Lieutenant and received his wings on March 23, 1943. After further training, he was assigned in the ETO to the 78th Fighter Group, 82nd Fighter Squadron, stationed at Duxford, Cambridgeshire, England, in September, 1943. Dick flew a total of 144 combat missions, combining a total of 400 hours of combat in the P-47 Thunderbolt and P-51 Mustang fighter aircraft. During his combat tours with the 82nd, spanning over two years, he was credited with 8.3 victories, including 4 in the air; promoted to the rank of Major; awarded the Air Medal with 17 oak leaf clusters, awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross with 4 oak leaf clusters, and the Silver Star. He commanded the 82nd Fighter Squadron from March, 1945 through June, 1945. After the war Dick continued his education while serving in the U.S Air Force Reserve. He received his degree in Civil Engineering from the University of Michigan in 1950 and began a twenty nine and a half year corporate career with E. I. DuPont. In 1963, Lt. Colonel Hewitt retired from the Air Force after twenty one and a half years of service. Retired from DuPont since 1983, Dick and his wife Lyn currently reside in Lawrence , Kansas.
During a 1992 visit to Duxford, U.K., the occasion being the 50th Reunion of the 8th Air Force's arrival in Britain, Dick was inspired to write the book "Target of Opportunity - Tales and Contrails of the Second World War". Self-published in 2000, the book has been a complete success, selling out close to two printings.
Dick writes, " I indeed had a tale to tell, not only of those days at Duxford, but the months of training that had gone into getting us ready. It was not for me, but the dozens of my flying buddies, that I wanted to memorialize and write about. They are the unsung heroes. "
The name for this book was inspired by the an aviation artwork by Marc Stewart, entitled "Target of Opportunity". Marc's work was based on a photograph he had located of a 78th Fighter Group P-47D, MX-E, s/n 42-26635. Dick Hewitt was contacted at a 1993 P-47 Pilots Association convention by Marc Stewart, who was searching for a 78th P-47 pilot to sign his work. Neither Marc or Dick realized at that time, that the particular photo of MX-E Marc had used was taken at a time when Dick Hewitt was at the controls. Once this knowledge became evident, it made the signing most meaningful for both artist and pilot.
" Target of Opportunity ", a painting by Marc Stewart, depicts the 82nd Fighter Squadron P-47D, MX-E, s/n 42-26635, making a strafing pass on a locomotive in the French countryside. More information regarding this work and the artist, Marc Stewart, can be found on this web site at " 78th Fighter Group - Aviation Art Showcase ." ( Source Credit: Marc Stewart, Aviation Art, Stewart Studios, Copyright © 1990, Stewart Studios )
82nd Fighter Squadron P-47D-25-RE, MX-E, s/n 42-26635, flown by Lt. Col. Richard A. Hewitt(then a Captain). This picture was taken by an RAF Hudson during a "photo-ops" flight on August 8, 1944. This picture inspired the creation of the painting "Target of Opportunity" by aviation artist Marc Stewart in 1990(see above). ( Source Credit: Ernest R. McDowell, "Thunderbolt, The Republic P-47 Thunderbolt in the European Theater", Squadron / Signal Publications, 1998, ISBN 0-89747-393-0 )
The following story is a Chapter from Dick Hewitt's book, " Target of Opportunity - Tales and Contrails of the Second World War ". It is printed here with permission of the author.
"Target of Opportunity - Tales and Contrails of the Second World War"
"Chapter 10 - Memorable Missions - Brunswick "
(Copyright © 2000 by Richard Hewitt)
By Lt. Col. R.A. "Dick" Hewitt
Targets in the Ruhr Valley, the heartland of Germany's major steel manufacturing facilities, had been blasted by the heavies, almost around the clock, for the better part of a week--- the RAF by night and the USAAF by Day. The belief by the Brit's that successful bombing could only be done at night was being dispelled by the Americans, thanks to the increased protection of our long-range fighter escort. We were now equipped with 165 gallon external fuel tanks.
The date was February 10, 1944. The 78th's Field Order read for escorting the B-17s to the Brunswick area, one of our deepest penetrations of the war. Rendezvous was to be on their leg, just before the bomb run. Flak would be the heaviest imaginable and the 109s and 190s were almost certain to be up in full force. With the increased fuel capacity, our staying time was upped by approximately 30 minutes. It would be one of the first missions wherein the bombers would have fighter escort all the way to the target and return. All that was needed for a textbook mission was a break in the clouds in the target area.
82nd Fighter Squadron P-47C-5, MX-R, s/n 41-6345, flown by Richard A. Hewitt during his first tour with the 78th Fighter Group, 82nd Fighter Squadron. The picture shows the aircraft parked in a Duxford revetment. Note the fuselage code painted on the canvas canopy cover and the 200 gallon centerline mounted impregnated paper auxiliary fuel tank. ( Source Credit: Jerry Scutts, " P-47 Thunderbolt Aces of the Eighth Air Force", Osprey Publishing, 1998, ISBN 1-85532-729-5 )
We had gotten our wish. It was almost cloudless and the B-17s looked ominous at 28,000 feet. Their contrails were persistent, which made them not only easy for us to spot but for the Jerries as well. The heavy presence of flak told us we were nearing the target area. This also meant that the enemy fighters would not be attacking at that instant. Not that they did not attack before the bomb runs, but this gave them time to refuel and be back up. Bombers would take their heaviest toll from the flak during the bomb run, then the enemy fighters would show up to continue their attacks. It seldom failed to happen in this sequence and today would be no exception.
The 82nd had just set up an "essing" pattern, slightly below and off to one side of the bombers. The 83rd and 84th were similarly positioned, one off to the opposite side, slightly higher, and the other squadron well above and on the same course as the '17s. Our "zig-zag" or "essing", as we called it, kept us even with the heavies who had a much slower air speed than ours.
Then the Jerries hit. Their tactic of coming in from high and head-on to the bombers was one of the most difficult to defend against. Diving through and between the tightened bomber formation, firing as they went, made it extremely difficult for the 17 gunners to get off good shots and at the same time not risk hitting one of their own. It was a "cardinal rule" for a friendly fighter not to follow the enemy fighter through the bomber formations. Anything that penetrated that air space was fair game. More than one "Little Friend" got shot down this way and one could certainly not blame the 17 gunners.
Our 82nd was low and left and our planned tactic was to dive and pick up the enemy aircraft as they came out below the bombers and before they could queue up for another attack. Our other two higher-up squadrons tried to intercept before they could attack. After a pass or two, and if we had not beat them off, they would head for the deck, in trail, hopefully, protecting the guy's rear in front of them. The "fly in their ointment"? The Jug could out dive either the Me-109 or the FW-190.
S/Sgt Phil C. Doloway, Dick Hewitt's crew chief, shown next to a 78th Fighter Group P-47C. Dick readily credits his successes and personal survival to his ground crewmen. Note the 500 lb. fragmentation bomb mounted on the centerline of the fuselage. ( Source Credit: R.A. Hewitt, " Target of Opportunity - Tales and Contrails of the Second World War", self published, 2000, ISBN 0-9705180-5 )
Major Richard A. Hewitt, in the cockpit of P-47D, MX-T, pictured with his ground crew in 1944. ( Left to Right, on the wing ) is armorer; Cpl. John Montgomery, CC S/Sgt. Phil Doloway and assistant CC, Sgt. Herb Trantham. ( Source Credit: R.A. Hewitt, " Target of Opportunity - Tales and Contrails of the Second World War", self published, 2000, ISBN 0-9705180-5 )
White Flight leader with Chuck Clark(1) and V.Y. Jones(2) as his wingman, took off after the first two 109s. I was in Yellow Flight on Doug Munson's(3) wing and we tailed after the next pair. It did not take long to close as I saw Munson getting numerous hits on the 109 in front of him. My instinct to go after the other 109 was soon forgotten. I first saw tracers go whizzing by, then glancing quickly to the rear, I saw the 20 mm gun flashes from what turned out to be a pursuing 109. Probably seeing he was not gaining, he had fired from a little out of range. Damn fortunate for me.
I called out "break" and broke hard left, pulling up into a tight chandelle. Two 109s went by and with almost no effort I had shaken them. Instinct again said "go after them" but knowing for sure there were more, I continued in a tight level left turn, checking to see if I had a wingman with me. No one! Swanson(4) and Harold Ludwig(5) who were #3 and #4 in our flight, had apparently continued after one of the other 109s. Then I heard Jonesy's voice. He sounded frantic as he called "someone get down here! I've got a 109 on my tail and I can't shake him!" The Jug was about an even match for the 109 or 190 at high altitude, with it's dive and zoom advantage, but not at lower altitudes and especially at treetop level. At slower speeds, either enemy aircraft could out turn the '47. It was just not a good place to get caught. I called for V.Y., but got no answer.
Apparently alone, at 15,000 feet, I was not about to go searching blindly. Munson, Clark, Swanson or Ludwig had to be closer than I and perhaps heard his plea for help. Not sure who the #3 or #4 were in Clark and Jonesy's flight, but they should also be in the area and have heard him.
My job was now one of survival and I started a gradual climb on a 280 degree westerly course, one I knew was close to the heading for home. A lone fighter in enemy territory was a prime target for a sneak attack. Their radar, no doubt, could have me pegged and vectoring one of the 109's in the area onto my butt would be pretty easy.
Then I spotted it. A lone P-47, below and slightly to the right of my course; he would have been a dead duck if it had been an enemy aircraft. I made a quick call and identified myself as "a friend coming up on your tail, slightly higher and to your left." He had no idea I was there. By his squadron letters, MX, and white nose cowling, I knew it was 82nd. He turned out to be Swanson's wingman, 2nd Lt. Harold Ludwig in MX-H. He acknowledged and I could tell he was elated. It was only his second or third mission, as I recall.
We climbed back up and leveled off at 20,000 feet. I told him to put his "little old neck" on a continuous swivel. If attacked at this altitude, we had ample fuel to stay and fight or dive for the deck and make a run for it. We also had the Jug's "Ace in the Hole": water injection. I had tried it twice on a test flight. A mixture of water and alcohol was injected directly into the cylinders, giving a cooling effect that boosted the Jug's speed by about 15%. It had an effect similar to the afterburner on a jet fighter of the post-war era. It's only drawback, if you could call it that, was it had a duration of only about 15 minutes, but it provided a quick "fix" if you had to make a run for it.
Not sure at the time where my flight leader, Doug Munson, had ended up. Probably to intent on the Me-109 or maybe my "break" call was not heard. Our flying time back to the Dutch coast and the Walcheren Island area had to be close to an hour. As soon as I got some kind of coastline identity, I'd refigure our course heading home. Then I saw the lone bogey, slightly lower and off to my right. Could be another 82nd Jug, but why was his heading not close to the one we were on? "Better check him out," I thought, so I called Ludwig to follow me, boosted my power, and headed in his direction.
We closed fast and immediately saw what looked like a P-47 but so did a FW-190, at least from my angle. It took less than a few seconds and I was certain it was not friendly. No elliptical wing like the jug and for sure no white collared nose. I was several hundred yards back and still slightly above when I saw the swastika.
The FW-190 with it's radial engine profile, viewed from a distance, could easily be mistaken for a P-47. ( Source Credit: unknown )
Now dead astern and so excited, I almost forgot to flip on my gun switch. Yardage looked a lot closer but I was at least 300 or so back when I squeezed off a short burst. Pieces flew off the tail and right wing tip, with a few hits on the fuselage near the cockpit area. Then off came the canopy and what had to be the pilot bailing out. My first kill. I had a eye witness and hopefully, good film, both a "requirement for a confirmed kill" in the 78th.
I made a quick orbit and there he was oscillating in his parachute, probably a thousand feet below me. "That's one for Granger(6)", I thought, but even a dozen would not have made up for his loss. The same way they had snuck up on him; only difference was that this Hun would be back up again. Johnny was dead. Wished I'd closed to about 100 yards and perhaps he'd have met a similar fate. Sounds gruesome, but war made you feel that way.
I glanced in my mirror and saw Ludwig "Close it up", I called and he pulled along side. "Long way home, spread out and keep your eyes open."
Now, to find some landmark. We should be getting close to the Zuider Zee so decided to drop down a bit and at the same time pick up a little more ground speed. The clouds were more broken now, so we leveled off just above their tops at 8,500 feet. Not a good spot to be caught at, normally, but now we could use them to our advantage, if necessary. The Zuider Zee was a large inland sea of water, that after the war was diked off, pumped dry and converted into agricultural land. It came into view and we appeared to be hitting it close to dead center.
"Where the hell did that come from?" I thought, as several bursts of 40 mm flak appeared just in front of us. I racked it hard right, turning away from Ludwig, knowing he'd follow me. Up on one wing, I looked down and saw that damn flak boat, always parked about in the middle of the Zuider Zee, to take pot shots at anyone who got close enough. "Follow me," I called to Ludwig and headed back east.
We'd drop down and give them a little of their own medicine. They were about to find out what eight .50 calibers on the front end of two Jugs looked like. At about three miles out we did a 180 and headed back west, on the treetops, a tactic we often used to surprise attack any ground target we knew would shoot back.
We crossed the Z's coast line and were chewing the wave tops as we lined up on the flak boat. Ludwig was to my left and out a couple of hundred feet. A quick burst showed I was hitting low. At 350+ mph the Jug was a bit tail high, so I pulled the gun sight up a hair and squeezed off a good 5 second burst, walking the rudder slightly to spray the superstructure from the center to the right end. I saw Harold's results and he too had blasted them, but good.
Staying on the wave tops, as we exited their range, I felt they could not fire much below the horizontal. And at our speed, we were out of range in no more than a few seconds. Those gunners were also probably in a state of shock after ducking those sixteen .50 caliber armor piercing incendiaries rattling off their superstructure. In either case, they did not fire another shot. A quick glance back showed some smoldering and even though we did not sink it, I am sure we had inflicted sufficient damage to require a lengthy port of call for repairs.
Now, to get to the Dutch coast and home. We had one more potential obstacle and that was sandbagged gun emplacements, spaced intermittently along the and on top of the coastal dike. We'd stay glued to the deck for sure. Knowing we'd be there in a few minutes, I again called to Harold to get lower as I noted he was at least 20-30 feet higher than me.
Dead ahead, I spotted one of the gun emplacements. As we skimmed across it, I saw the gunners scrambling to man their guns. "Get down", I again called to Ludwig. His depth perception may have told him he was lower but I was literally chewing the North Sea wave tops. As he pulled abreast, I noticed it. A streak of black, probably oil or hydraulic fluid, coming from the underside of his plane. He said nothing but almost immediately started to fall behind me. No radio call or any indication he had been hit.
Again, I called to se if he was OK as he now was visible only in my rear view mirror, gradually falling way back. No response, so I made a quick 180 to check him out. I could not believe what I saw. His prop was dead still.
"My God he is ditching!" I knew the P-47, with about a zero tolerance for a successful ditching would sink like a tank. With the high white capped waves, , he must have gone under immediately on impact. I looked frantically for his yellow Mae West or dinghy. Either should have been visible, even in the choppy seas. Nothing, so I quickly flipped to our Air/Sea Rescue B-channel. "Mayday, mayday, mayday."
We had to be no more than five miles off the Dutch coast. I started a spiraling climb, trying to stay immediately overhead and hopefully get a "fix" on his ditch for Air/Sea Rescue. The cloud cover was now solid at about 2,000 feet. On instruments, I climbed on up to around 8,000 feet, repeating my Mayday call. Even a German ASR would have been OK. Any hope from ours, this far away, I knew was a long shot. I kept calling in hopes someone would hear me. Only dead silence.
My fuel now became my second major concern. I had no more than 45 minutes left with over 100 miles to reach the English coast. I turned to 270 degrees to get under the clouds, or at least I hoped to. What if the ceiling had dropped down to the wave tops? I'd level off regardless at 2,000 feet and fly my instruments if necessary. I made several more mayday calls, but not one response from ASR. I was just too far from the English coast for my radio to transmit.
I said a quick prayer that somehow Harold would survive, but I knew, deep down inside, that his chances were very slim. There was nothing more I could do, or could have done. His fate was now in God's hands.
At about 2,000 feet. through the breaks in the clouds, I could see the white caps below. I was half on instruments and half on VFR(visual flight rules) as my altimeter could have been easily off. Changes in barometric pressure and the resultant altimeter error has killed many a trusting pilot by running into the ground. I also had one eye glued to my gas gauge. It could not be far now and I was sure to hit the coast somewhere close to Felixstowe. My IFF was on. I knew I was below the preferred minimum crossing in elevation and trusting those "Limey" shore gunners' recognition was never a sure bet. Not that they would intentionally try to hit you, but it was more of a harassment to tell you they could if they really wanted to. And also, that you should be above 8,000 feet.
As I concentrated on my instruments, the shoreline almost flashed by without my realizing it. No "pot shots" today. I needed some good luck as so far it had all been bad. The gunners could have all been out to tea. It was close to that hour for most Brits. Now I needed to find a close in base to land at.
A lot of bomber bases were in the area. I no sooner had the thought when a B-17 loomed in front of me. I saw immediately that he was on three engines; his right inboard was feathered. There were two other "Forts" behind the first one. Then their runway appeared dead ahead and was it ever a beautiful sight. On "Charlie" channel, I called for landing instructions. Their tower said, "You are number 4 in the pattern and it will be at least 15 minutes. One ship(B-17) has wounded aboard and the other is also shot up and has an engine out." My plea was that I was getting low on fuel went to deaf ears as they said, " You are number 4, little friend." My low fuel red warning light had still not come on but had to be darned close. "There's a fighter base dead west about eight minutes," the tower came back.
"Thanks, I am outta here," I responded.
They pegged it perfectly. I wasn't sure of the base identity but it had P-51s dispersed and looked beautiful to me. My call was responded to PDQ. This time I told them my fuel was critical with no more than a few minutes left. I fibbed a little, but as I did my final turn, that "glowing red" fuel light came on again. My second low fuel encounter in less than two weeks. I hoped it would be my last. Probably wishful thinking----time alone would tell.
My mood was somber as I waited for the fuel truck. They weren't as speedy as the RAF but then I was in no hurry. I called the tower to see if they had any way to check ASR. "Nothing" they replied. My thoughts were one hundred miles away in that frigid North Sea. If Ludwig survived, it would have been a miracle.
Then I remembered Jonesy. With Ludwig's plight, I had almost forgotten about him. His plea to " get that 109 off my tail", I'd never forget. He, Paul Kellor(7), Grant Turley(8) and I had "roomied" since Granger's loss. Was I gonna lose another room mate? And how many other 78th pilots would be lost today?
It would turn out that 2nd. Lt. Vernon Y. Jones would be KIA. Harold Ludwig's name is also now engraved on that marble wall. Along with William Neel(9), in the Cambridge Mattingly Military Cemetery. His final resting place may never be unknown, since his remains were never recovered, but unlike many others who they think may rest at the bottom of the North Sea or English Channel, I know exactly where Harold's remains are located. Probably still wrapped in the seat of his P-47, MX-H, less than ten miles off Egmund aan Zee, Netherlands. "
Webmasters Notes:
(1) - Clark - Capt. Charles R. Clark, pilot in 82nd FS from 2-16-43 to 8-2-44, Squadron CO( 7-20-44), POW, near Beauvais - Compiegne, hit by flak while strafing rail yard, bailed and captured.
(2) - V.Y. Jones - 2nd Lt. Vernon Y. Jones, pilot in 82nd FS from 11-43 to 2-10-44, KIA, lost in aerial combat. near Brunswick, Germany.
(3) - Doug Munson - Major Norman D. Munson, pilot in 83rd FS from 2-16-43 to 7-19-44, "C" Flt. Ldr., KIA, hit by flak, crashed, while strafing Freundenstadt airdrome.
(4) - Swanson - 1st Lt. William S. Swanson, pilot in 83rd FS from 11-43 to 2-11-44, KIA, last seen with 2nd Lt. Donald R. Morsch( pilot in 82nd FS ), near Luxembourg, bouncing an Me-109 into clouds at 6-7,000 feet.
(5) - Harold Ludwig - 2nd Lt. Harold E. Ludwig, pilot in 82nd FS to 2-10-44, KIA, returning from an escort mission to Brunswick, Germany, with Major Richard A. Hewitt( pilot in the 82nd FS ), hit by flak crossing over the Dutch coast. Ditched in the North Sea.
(6) - Granger - 2nd Lt. Arthur S. Granger, pilot in 83rd FS from 11-3-43 to 1-5-44, KIA, north of LaRochelle, France, returning from escort mission, low on fuel, bounced by enemy aircraft, shot down.
(7) - Paul Kellor - 1st Lt. Paul Keller, pilot in 82nd FS.
(8) - Grant Turley - 1st Lt. Grant M. Turley, pilot in 82nd FS from 11-43 to 3-6-44, KIA, shot down during a dogfight near Haselvenne, Germany.
(9) - William Neel - 1st Lt. William F. Neel, pilot in 82nd FS from 2-16-43 to 1-24-44, KIA, missed England returning from a mission in poor visibility, crashed into the Atlantic along with 1st Lt. Clifford B. Hahn( pilot in 82nd FS ), neither had working radios.
This story is presented with permission of the author, Richard Hewitt. It is unlawful to reproduce this story in whole or in part without the expressed written consent of the author. Copyright © 2000 by Richard Hewitt .
This story was published in a book by Richard Hewitt in 2000, entitled " Target of Opportunity - Tales and Contrails of the Second World War " , Self-published, ISBN 0-9705180-0-5.
For more information on the book, " Target of Opportunity - Tales and Contrails of the Second World War ",
contact Dick Hewitt directly at rahew@myvine.com
Richard A. Hewitt Picture Gallery
Another picture of P-47D-25-RE, MX-E, s/n 42-26635( assigned to 1st Lt. Howard S. Scholz, pilot in 82nd FS ), flown by Lt. Col. Richard A. Hewitt, during the RAF "photo-ops" flight mission of August 8, 1944( See above ). ( Source Credit: Edward Shacklady, " P-47 Thunderbolt", 2000, Tempus Publishing Ltd., ISBN 0-7524-2008-9 )
A different view of P-47D-25-RE, MX-E, s/n 42-26635, during the RAF "photo-ops" flight of August 8, 1944( See above ). ( Source Credit: Ernest R. McDowell, "Thunderbolt, The Republic P-47 Thunderbolt in the European Theater", Squadron / Signal Publications, 1998, ISBN 0-89747-393-0 )
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Lt.Col. Richard A. Hewitt at Duxford. (Left) ( Source Credit: "Duxford Diary", East Anglian Aviation Society, reprint, 1975); (Right) ( Source Credit: R.A. Hewitt, " Target of Opportunity - Tales and Contrails of the Second World War", self published, 2000, ISBN 0-9705180-5 )
A color profile of 82nd Fighter Squadron P-51D-20NA, MX-U, s/n 44-64147, "Big Dick". This aircraft was assigned to Lt.Col. Richard A. Hewitt( then a Major). He was C.O. of the 82nd Fighter Squadron March - June, 1945. ( Source Credit: Garry L. Fry via Bob Boyd, "Eagles of Duxford", 1991 , Phalanx Publishing Ltd., ISBN 0-9625860-2-1 )
P-51D-20NA, MX-U, s/n 44-64147, "Big Dick" of the 82nd Fighter Squadron shown parked at Duxford. The Crew Chief was S/Sgt. Phil Doloway, Asst. C.C. ; Sgt. Herb Trantham and Armorer; Cpl. John Montgomery. This aircraft survived the war and was eventually sold to Italy. ( Source Credit: Bill Hess, "Aces and Wingmen, Volume II ", 1999, Aviation USK, ISBN 0-9623080-2-1 )
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This page was last revised on 3 / 25 / 02
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