Vanished Hero: The Life, War and Mysterious Disappearance of America’s WWII Strafing King

by Stout, Jay

  Righetti continued after the FW-190: “The enemy aircraft I was pursuing continued to tighten his turn to the left, and when he reached a bank of 70–80 degrees he snapped under and went straight into the ground from 600 feet.” This propensity of the FW-190 to go out of control under heavy maneuvering had been noted by Allied pilots who tested captured examples. Recovering the aircraft while at high altitude was generally not a problem. However, so low to the ground, Righetti’s opponent never had a chance.

  “I continued my turn,” Righetti said, “and observed my wingman, Lieutenant [Kenneth] Griffith, in trouble with a 190 on his tail. I turned to engage this enemy aircraft, and as I did so took short bursts at two other enemy aircraft which crossed my path, and secured scattered strikes on both, which I claim as damaged.”

  Righetti continued after Griffith’s pursuer. “Lieutenant Griffith was in a tight left turn, and as I approached the 190 on his tail, I secured a good group of hits on the enemy aircraft.” The German pilot spotted Righetti and broke off his attack on Griffith with a climbing turn to the right. Righetti followed him and began firing from three hundred yards as he rapidly closed the distance. “I secured a scattered set of strikes all along the enemy aircraft, and when he reached 1,600 feet he rolled over on his back and went straight into the ground, crashing and exploding.”

  Although Righetti had shot the attacker down, Griffith was still in trouble. “Just after the last enemy aircraft crashed,” said Righetti, “Lieutenant Griffith called that he was hit in the arm and that his engine was out. Due to the haze I could not locate him so I advised him to bail out. He stated that he was too low but was very calm as he wished me a Merry Christmas. I feel sure that Lieutenant Griffith was able to belly in as the terrain was suitable.” Nevertheless, German records indicate that Griffith and his aircraft were found completely destroyed and burned.8

  Another pilot in the flight, Paul Reeves, was also very nearly killed during the fight. “I began firing at an FW-190 but before I could do much damage, my ship was hit.”9 A 20-millimeter shell exploded in Reeves’s cockpit near his left foot and a large hole was blown out of his right wing. “I tightened my turn and managed to keep the German from getting any more hits. We made a couple of complete turns with neither of us able to put the other away. Someone called on the radio and said ‘Let’s get out of here.’”

  But Reeves could not. “I called that a German was on my tail. Frank Bradford acknowledged that he could see the action and he made a pass at the 190, which broke off and ran. Bradford was about out of ammo and my plane was so crippled that neither of us could pursue the guy.”

  Reeves became separated from Bradford. “I leveled out and headed in the general direction we had been flying previously but I had no compass—it had been shot out. A coating of oil covered the windshield and the canopy on the top and right side.” Reeves started a climb and tried to determine whether or not he would have to abandon his aircraft. “The plane was performing well and it seemed that I had a chance to limp back to Allied territory, so I called Righetti and asked him to make a 360-degree turn so that I could see and join him.”

  Instead of turning, Righetti asked Reeves where he was. “I replied about ten miles north of where we had the fight. He said ‘Roger, I don’t see you.’ That he didn’t consider making a circle to pick up one of his men was disappointing.” It is peculiar that Righetti didn’t reverse course and try to collect Reeves. His failure to do so might indicate that he didn’t understand Reeves’s situation and believed that he was simply separated rather than shot up and alone.

  With his canopy covered by oil and his aircraft punctured with more than forty holes, Reeves climbed and discovered that his engine performed reasonably well. “Bradford called me and told me to point my nose at the sun and set my gyro compass at 240 degrees. He had checked this with his own compass and it was a great help to me.” As Reeves nursed his ship westward he heard Russell Haworth—the “Krazy Kid”—declare that he was chasing an Me-109. “I saw a 109 being chased off to my right, followed by the 51 about two thousand yards behind.”

  Reeves considered landing at one of the many Allied airfields on the continent, but his engine seemed to be running reasonably well. He continued toward England and crossed paths with a four-ship of 4th Fighter Group P-51s, but decided to proceed to Wormingford on his own. “I rolled to a stop at the end of the runway and hit the left brake to turn onto the taxi strip but I had no left brake. It too, had been shot out.” Using only his right brake, Reeves gingerly made his way toward his revetment. Another 55th pilot recalled, “I had just parked and was not yet out of my airplane when I saw a P-51 taxi by that was all covered with oil and as it passed, I could see the valve rocker arms moving up and down through a jagged hole in the engine cowling from a cannon hit on the top right portion of the cowling.”10

  When Reeves reached his parking revetment, his engine finally seized.

  True to form, and as noted by Paul Reeves, Russell Haworth had gone hunting the Luftwaffe on his own. He found himself over an airfield near Vogelsberg, in central Germany. “I started circling the field,” he said, “saw a plane landing, and realized the planes were Me-109s. Then I saw a second plane on his downwind leg in the landing pattern with wheels down and about 50 feet off the deck. I pulled in behind the enemy aircraft as he turned on the base leg, firing a short burst in the turn.”11

  Haworth closed the range until he was nearly atop the enemy fighter and fired his guns once more. His rounds tore into the Me-109. “I pulled up, rolled over, and watched the pilot attempt to belly land the enemy aircraft. However, his wheels were still partly down and his airspeed was too high. The enemy aircraft rolled over and broke apart, pieces being scattered over a considerable area.”

  The Righetti children learned a great deal as they grew to adulthood on the ranch. Pictured are Ernie, Doris, Maurice, Lorraine, Elizabeth and Elwyn. Righetti family

  Righetti learned to operate various types of machinery while growing up on the family’s Edna Valley ranch, near San Luis Obispo, California. Righetti family

  The Righetti family circa 1936. From left: Doris, Elwyn, Pop, Elizabeth, Mom, Ernie, Maurice and Lorraine. Righetti family

  Righetti, far right, enjoyed studying at the California Polytechnic College at San Luis Obispo. Here he is participating in the stock horse judging during the Poly Royal event. Righetti family

  Aviation Cadet Elwyn G. Righetti, 1940. USAAC

  The North American AT-6 Texan was perhaps the most widely used trainer in history, and was an aircraft with which Righetti was very familiar. USAAC

  As a young instructor, Righetti, second from left. and his peers led the way in creating the biggest, most effective air force in history. USAAC

  Newlyweds, Cathryn and Elwyn Righetti. Righetti family

  Righetti’s wife Cathryn, or “Katy,” with their daughter, Kyle, circa 1944. Righetti family

  Righetti, his wife Cathryn, and their daughter, Kyle, in 1942. Righetti family.

  Righetti likely participated in this flyover of the “Taj Mahal” at Randolph during 1942. USAAF

  Righetti’s rank and position in the training command led to many perks. Here, he is pictured with Irene Dunn and Spencer Tracy on the set of “A Guy Named Joe.” Righetti family

  Righetti made rank very quickly. Here, he is a major during 1943; it would have taken more than ten years to have made the same rank prior to the war. USAAF.

  Righetti received gunnery training in the Curtiss P-40 Warhawk before heading overseas in 1944. Righetti family

  Darrell Cramer helped mentor Righetti during his introduction to combat. The two downed an Me-109 on Righetti’s first full mission, November 2, 1944. USAAF

  Elwyn at home with Pop and Ernie. Righetti family

  Righetti took over the 55th from George Crowell who had flown with the unit since the time it operated P-38s. USAAF

  Righetti presents an award to one of his young lieutenants, Herman Schonenberg. USAAF

/>   Righetti was well-pleased at flying P-51s with the 55th Fighter Group.

  The FW-190 was a contemporary of the P-51, adept at ground attack and air-to-air combat, and was arguably a better fighter than its stable mate, the Me-109. Imperial War Museum

  The Me-109 was a capable opponent through the entire war, despite its age. This was a late-model variant with a Galland hood-style canopy. Grosse, Bundesarchiv Bild 101l-674-7774-25

  Russell Haworth, known as the Krazy Kid, had no expectations of surviving the war. USAAF

  Righetti, with the first Katydid. The overtly sexy cariacture painted in green and black on the left side of the P-51’s nose is readily visible. Righetti family

  A pair of Mistel combinations being chased by the 55th. USAAF

  One of the Ju-88 Mistel aircraft without its fighter, just before being downed by Righetti and the 55th. USAAF

  An intact FW-190/Ju-88 Mistel combination. USAAF

  Richard Gibbs was Righetti’s wingman on February 3, 1945 and was credited with downing a Mistel and its controlling fighter. USAAF

  Herman Schonenberg strafes a train. One of the dangers in strafing was the close proximity of squadron mates as evidenced by the P-51 in front of him. USAAF

  The 20 millimeter cannon, in various forms, was the weapon most encountered by Allied pilots when strafing German airfields. Bundesarchiv Bild 183-J08338

  Frank Birtciel recalled that Righetti imbued the 55th with a newly invigorated spirit of camaraderie and aggressiveness. Frank Birtciel

  The winter of 1944-1945 was not only difficult for the pilots, but also their aircraft maintenance crews. USAAF

  The Me-262 was fast and difficult to shoot down except while it was taking off or landing. USAAF

  Righetti, Clayton Peterson, George Crowell, Darrell Cramer and Edward Giller enjoy themselves at a social gathering. Righetti family

  Top and above: John Cunnick downed this Me-262 on March 22, 1945. The 55th held the record for most Me-262s downed in a single day—seven, on February 25, 1945. USAAF

  Frank Birtciel’s Miss Velma wore the green-on-aluminum livery sported by some of the 55th’s 343rd Fighter Squadron aircraft. Frank Birtciel

  Robert Cox downed two Do-217s and shot up an additional five Do-217s on the ground on March 3, 1945. There were no witnesses and his gun camera film failed; his claims were subsequently denied. USAAF

  In order to keep him from harm, Righetti sent Paul Reeves back to base early on April 17, 1945, which was scheduled to be the last mission of Reeve’s tour. Five 55th men, including Righetti, were lost that day. USAAF

  Millard “Doak” Easton was Righetti’s crew chief. He recalled that Righetti was easy to satisfy. USAAF

  Righetti’s sisters, Lorraine and Doris. Righetti was especially proud of Lorraine’s enlistment into the Women’s Army Corps, or WAC. Righetti fanily

  This Hitler Youth pilot and glider are representative of the young men and aircraft strafed on the ground by the 55th on March 3, 1945.

  As the commanding officer of the 55th, Righetti was responsible for virtually all the units on Wormingford—nearly two thousand men. He was 29. USAAF

  Although he preferred to fly, Righetti appreciated that his leadership position allowed him to influence plans for the air war. USAAF

  It was believed by some that Righetti and John Landers, seen here in the cockpit of his P-51, engaged in an unofficial contest to determine who could score the most strafing victories against enemy aircraft. USAAF

  A rare photo of Righetti’s Katydid in the air. This was the second Katydid, a P-51D, Serial Number 44-72227. Righetti family

  Righetti took his administrative duties seriously, despite the fact that they detracted from his ability to fly as many missions as he would have liked. USAAF

  Righetti and John Cunnick pretend to review a map in this USAAF publicity shot. USAAF

  The Luftwaffe’s airfields were wrecked by a combination of Allied bombing and strafing attacks. USAAF

  Chester Coggeshall flew P-38s and P-51s with the 55th and was murdered by the Germans on the day he was shot down, April 16, 1945. It was the last mission of his second combat tour and the day before Righetti was shot down. USAAF

  Righetti watched younger brother Maurice’s career closely. Maurice eventually flew B-29s in the Pacific. USAAF

  Righetti’s daughter Kyle is presented with his decorations at a military ceremony held at Fort Ord, California on November 6, 1946. Righetti family

  “TONITE THIS LAD IS A TIRED GUY”

  The 55th was airborne again the following day to escort the same 3d Air Division B-17s to the same tactical targets in the vicinity of St. Vith. Enemy fighters were encountered as they climbed to meet the bombers. Righetti and his 338th Fighter Squadron were held in reserve while the 343rd attacked and downed five Me-109s.

  Later that night Righetti wrote a Christmas letter home: “Just a V-mail quickie, for tonite this lad is a tired guy. Got 16 hours in combat during the last three days, including today.” He noted his downing of the two FW-190s the previous day against his total accomplishments up to that date. His attitude was typical of a combatant who had experienced nothing but victory and who knew little of the despair that accompanied defeat. “Words can’t express what a really wonderful game this is.”

  Such words were simple, high-spirited bombast. Intellectually and morally, he knew that the killing was not a “wonderful game.” Certainly it was not a game to his wingman, Ken Griffith—who had arrived at the 55th at the same time as he had—or to Griffith’s family, or to anyone that suffered during the war.

  In fact, during the course of Righetti’s combat career, dozens of pilots from the 55th were lost while flying missions in which he had a leadership role of some sort. Such losses were an inevitable part of the war and certainly weighed on his conscience to a degree. Nevertheless, he never shared details in his letters home as to how the men were killed, nor did he write of any feelings of grief. Certainly this was due in part to censorship sensitivities, but he was also aware of the worry that such shared feelings would invariably cause Cathryn and his family in San Luis Obispo. And perhaps he might have been coping—shielding his own psyche by not dwelling on the lost men.

  As his family worried about him, he also worried about them. He worried about his parents’ health. He worried that so much of the responsibility for the ranch was on brother Ernie’s shoulders. He worried about the happiness and well-being of his sisters—especially Lorraine who was in the Women’s Army Corps. And he worried about Maurice—not just about his safety, but about how and what he was doing.

  And of course he worried about Katy and Kyle. He worried that Katy might be overwhelmed and lonesome. He worried because he knew she worried. He worried about Katy’s finances, and he especially worried—during a time of childhood diseases that included polio—about Kyle. “Kyle’s illness gave me a quite a scare,” he noted after receiving a telegram alerting him that his daughter was ill and that Cathryn needed money. As it developed, he received a second telegram a few days later reassuring him that Kyle was “recovering beautifully,” and that the “crisis” was over. “I had a rough 96 hours,” he wrote. “Wish they were in California where the weather is better.”

  In fact, Katy and Kyle moved back and forth between San Antonio and San Luis Obispo. Righetti preferred them in California—he knew that his family would love and care for them. Certainly, he knew that Katy’s family also loved them, but he was understandably biased toward his own clan.

  Following the Christmas Eve dogfight, Righetti made claims only for the two FW-190s he actually engaged. Of the two FW-190s that were destroyed when their pilots preemptively crash-landed, he wrote in his encounter report: “2 FW-190s destroyed by the flight, to be awarded as the Group Commander desires.” Because he was the senior man in the formation, and because he led the attack, he could have legitimately claimed both as his own. He did not, and never made mention of them again in his letters home. However, the 55th’s commander
, George Crowell, was evidently motivated to give Righetti credit for one of the enemy aircraft as the records show that three aerial victories—rather than two—were attributed to Righetti on that date.

  The original plan for the German ground assault into the Ardennes included a massive, surprise air attack against Allied airbases on the continent. Luftwaffe planners hoped to catch American and Allied aircraft on the ground and, if not wipe them out, deal them a crippling blow. However, the foul weather that shrouded the launch of the German thrust on December 16, 1944, also kept the air forces of both sides on the ground. When the weather finally cleared and the Allied air forces started shredding the German ground units, the Luftwaffe was too weak to stop them. The ground advance faltered and consequently the imperative to neutralize the Allied air advantage over the battlefield grew critical.