The 100th Bomb Group, also colloquially known as the “Bloody Hundredth,” occupies a special niche in the history of World War II air combat. They are best known for enduring some of the highest casualty rates in exchange for daylight bombing missions over occupied Europe, and their history is one of resolve, sacrifice, and indomitable will. This legend wasn’t constructed upon the numbers—it was founded on the character, the leadership, and sheer grit of the airmen operating out of Thorpe Abbotts, England, into some of the most treacherous skies of the war.
The history of the unit began in 1942 at Walla Walla Army Air Base in Washington. Their training was anything but smooth at first, troubled by disorganization and even a bit of overconfidence. One notorious navigational exercise left bombers scattered all across the western United States, some crashing miles off target in places like Las Vegas, and one crew famously detouring to Tennessee just to visit a pilot’s wife. Their first commander, Colonel Darr H. Alkire, made no bones about it, warning men that their flights would be tough and far from glamorous. Due to these early hitches, Alkire was relieved by Colonel Howard M. Turner, who re-established discipline and prepared the unit for their deployment in England in mid-1943.
Having arrived in England, the 100th became incorporated in the Eighth Air Force’s ambitious program of daylight accuracy bombing. The theory was that precision bombing of strategic enemy industries would destroy the Nazi war machine. But theory crashed headlong into reality. Without long-range escort fighters in the early days, the B-17 Flying Fortress bombers were exposed to intense Nazi defenses. Losses mounted rapidly, and crews confronted bleak odds.
The 100th got its bloody baptism of fire right away. Their first mission over Bremen was costly, with three bombers and 30 airmen lost. Unit culture was established by larger-than-life leaders like Operations Officer John “Bucky” Egan and Captain Gale “Buck” Cleven, whose combative personalities kept morale high in the face of increasing danger. Legends over the years that the 100th was “jinxed” helped to make them near-mythical among airmen.
One of the most prominent missions was the Regensburg Raid on August 17, 1943. The 100th took the most hazardous position in the formation, which became known as the “Purple Heart Corner.” They lost nine of their twenty-two aircraft that day — the largest loss of any squadron.
Survivors recalled the specter of so many buddies going down together. Stories circulated among the crews, mingled with dark humor, like that of a pilot said to have pretended to surrender to the enemy simply to test whether he could get away with it, provoking rumors that the Germans then attacked the 100th even more aggressively.
October 1943 was a bloody month, later nicknamed “Black Week” for the USAAF. The 100th’s experience on the Münster raid on October 10 became legendary. Of thirteen B-17s sent out, only one made it back—Royal Flush, flown by Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal. An attorney before the war and the group’s sole Jewish pilot, Rosenthal battled on after the loss of two engines and critical systems. He survived being shot down twice and completed fifty-two missions, one of the group’s all-time heroes. They were named Schlüsselheft, or key vaults.
Psychological stress weighed heavily on crews. The Air Force began rotating airmen out to rest in “flak houses” after hard missions. Commanders like Colonel Neil “Chick” Harding came to understand that it was as important to maintain men as mentally resilient as discipline and training. He encouraged his crews to blow off steam and enjoy moments of relief amidst the chaos.
Although the 100th’s history for losses was legendary, it hadn’t always been the highest loss unit statistically. However, because some of its most disastrous raids—Regensburg, Münster, and the fateful “Black Thursday” Schweinfurt raid—were followed by extensive publicity, the group’s name became eternally in the books. Its history was also enriched by its larger-than-life figures, from the swaggering “Bucks” to dashing navigator Harry Crosby, who once famously refused to bomb Beethoven’s birthplace of Bonn out of respect.
Despite all the adversities, the 100th played an essential role in the war—bomber raids over Berlin, escort duty during the invasion of Normandy, and the Battle of the Bulge. At war’s end, they had flown 306 missions and lost 757 men dead or missing. Their record lives in more than textbooks, but also popular culture, and through the memories heard at veterans’ reunions. Heroes like Capt. John “Lucky” Luckadoo and Lt. Jim Rasmussen have transcribed their histories to the next generation of Airmen and kept the spirit of the Bloody Hundredth alive.
Their courage, selflessness, and commitment are an inspiration—one that will forever serve as a guiding light to those who follow the same route.