Original Coverage of Ralph K. Hofer's Career
The Salem News, March 23, 1944
- The Salem News
- Updated
Flight Officer Ralpk K. Hofer has become an aerial ace, having been credited with the destruction of five German planes. Hofer is now serving with the Eighth Air Force, and formerly made his home in Salem where was known as Junior Halbrook.
Lieut. Hofer was fortunate enough to down a German plane on his first mission over Germany last fall. Prior to his transfer to the American Air Forces, Hofer served some time with the Royal Canadian Air Force as an enlisted man and fighter pilot.
There are now a total of 15 aces in the fighter group with which Hofer is serving.
On a recent interview at the American fighter base in England, some of the pilots had reported sighting new German four-engined interceptors, but it was later learned they were twin-engined Messerschmitt 110’s carrying two big rocket guns beside the motors.
“I shot down one of those ME-110’s myself yesterday,” said curly haired. Boyish faced Lt. Ralph Hofer, 22, of Salem, Mo. “It had me fooled for a while. When I dived down I saw what I believed to be four engines, was really only our old friend the ME-110, packing two huge rocket guns under its wings beside the motors.”
The Salem News, June 1, 1944
- The Salem News
- Updated
First Lt. Ralph K. Hofer, known here as Junior Halbrook, is rapidly becoming Salem’s No. 1 hero of the War for his outstanding record of destruction of Nazi panes, as a mustang fighter pilot with the Army Air Force in England.
Announcement arrived Wednesday, May 31, from a fighter base in England the Lt. Hofer had destroyed three German training planes on the ground that day, tying the record of Major James Goodson of Toronto Canada, who holds the high ground score of fighter pilots in the European theater, with 15 planes destroyed to his credit.
Both pilots have also shot down 15 planes in the air. Both Hofer and Goodson are Ace members of the Mustang group commanded by Co. Donald Blakeslee of Ohio, with which Captain Don Gentile of Piqua, Ohio, amassed his score of 23 kills in the air and seven on the ground.
According to the announcement from the base in England, after escorting bombers on the day’s mission Wednesday, Hofer left the rest of his group in a cloud and went on a hunting expedition over Germany by himself. He arrived back at his base sometime after his companions with his tail of his plane peppered by Nazi attacks.
Hofer told the others that when he shot up the trainers “they went up like so much gas-soaked paper.” He is credited with 13 kills while flying four missions in the last four days.
Lt. Hofer made his home in Salem for some time before entering the service, and represented the Salem Lion’s Club in the Golden Glove tournament in St. Louis several years ago. He later went to Chicago, where his mother, Mrs. Opal Hofer, lived at that time, and did considerable amateur boxing there.
He enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force under the name of Ralph K. Hofer in June of 1940. With the RCAF he became a flight sergeant before he was transferred into the U.S. Army Air Forces. He was fortunate enough to shoot down a German ME-109 on the first mission he flew over Germany as a combat pilot with the Army Air Force.
His recent successes would indicate that Lt. Hofer is determined to set a record of his own in the European Theater, and his friends in Salem and Dent County are wishing him continued good fortune.
The young Ace’s mother, Mrs. Opal Hofer, now resides at Vancouver, Washington. He also has a sister, Mrs. Warren C. Schreiber, at Great Falls, Montana., who is wife os S/Sgt. Warran Scheiber, also serving with the Army Air Forces.
Clyde Halbrook of Salem, and Arthur Halbrook, south of Salem, are uncles; and Mrs. M.L. Norris, both of Salem, are aunts of Lt. Hofer, who is receiving national recognition for destruction of his full share of Nazi air forces.
At the meeting of the Chamber of Commerce held Wednesday, plans were made for writing Lt. Hofer a letter of commendation and encouragement, the letter to be signed by individuals and business firms of Salem, who recognize and appreciate his excellent fighting spirit.
The St. Louis Post-Dispatch, June 25, 1944
- The St. Louis Post-Dispatch
- Updated
When Lt. Ralph K. Hofer of Salem, Mo. Comes home one of these days the Old Show-Me State will admit it’s been shown and toss a terrific celebration for the lad who is now one of great American fighter aces of this war. “Hofe” sort of hopes there is some sort of a shindig in his honor, says it would be a nice way to end up the merry-go-round he’s been in since smeared his first Jerry last October. He hopes though that there won’t be any of those hero-stuff speeches.
“No guy minds being a hero,” Hofer told me the other day – the day, incidentally, on which he returned to this base in England after landing on an airstrip in Normandy after a Jerry shot up the engine of his crate and made a sieve of his oil system.
“In fact, I kinda like the idea of being a hero. But if they toss in that old stuff about how I helped to liberate the conquered peoples of Europe I’ll go beet red.”
A less straight thinking lad than Hofer might himself in time come to believe in that “idealistic hero stuff.” But Hofer never will. He got into this flying racket on a fluke, not because he nursed beautiful ideas of duty to humanity. That he turned out to be one of the hottest pilots ever to maneuver a Mustang over enemy territory he regards as “just one of those things.”
Fearless in the air, ralph now has a total of 32 enemy planes to his credit – 16 ½ in the air and 15 ½ enemy planes destroyed on the ground. But more than this record, he has a reputation among flyers of being “the last of the few,” the last of the few real daredevils, the last of the few real screwballs who fly for the hell of it, live for the hell of fighting and count that day lost when the Jerries run for home and fail to close in for the fight.
An individualist, Hofer antics in the Air Forces are already tradition. Willful and boyish, he has never yet realized he is a soldier. He has a chronic smile, usually wears his hair long in a chestnut mane, has the blouse of his Class A uniform tailored in Zoot suit fashion, and even when suffering from the most classic of hangovers has a twinkle of bright, blue eyes that rescue him from many a scrape.
Born on a farm outside of Salem, Mo. , Ralph was known in those parts, until his mother remarried, as Junior Halbrook. He received his gradeschooling outside Warfel, Mo. Whe Mrs. Opal Hofer went to Chicago, Ralph took that name, enrolled in Wright Junior College and had ambitions of being a commercial artist. In Chicago he went in for a little boxing, was good enough to win a trophy in the Golden Gloves Boxing Tournament in the light-heavyweight division, played some semi-pro football in a Chicago league.
But his specialty was boxing. He met Billy Conn in Chicago, and Conn, flattered by the kid’s admiration for him, went a few rounds with Hofer at Trafton’s Gym.
“He was easy on me,” Hofer says. “But I sure got a thrill out of it.”
Later, Ralph did some professional fighting under the name Halbrook. He liked the “scientific angle” of boxing, but he didn’t relish hurting anybody.
Restless, he moved back to Missouri four years ago and got himself a job as a timekeeper at Fort Leonard Wood.
“I saved a little money, sold my car and invested the whole works in the fanciest sports suits I could match together,” he explained. “You see I had made up my mind to got to California and I figured nobody ought to go to California without some pretty hot sports suits.”
To pick up still a little extra cash, in 1941 Ralph went to Detroit to try and snag some of the purses to be picked up in the American Legion bouts. He had also run across a deal to get his expenses paid by for driving a ’42 model Hudson to a West Coast agent. While waiting for the new model Hudson to come off the line, he crossed over to Windsor, Ontario. When he emerged from the tunnel under the Detroit River, an immigration official stopped him.
“Came over here to join up with the R.C.A.F. I suppose?” said the official thinking Hofer as dozens before him had.
“Well I-“ stammered Hofer.
“That building right over there is where you go,” interrupted the official.
Ralph had never been near an airplane. He wasn’t even interested in them. Inside the building, however, youngsters from all over the States began welcoming him. They told him what a good deal the R.C.A.F. was. Somebody shoved an application from at him.
“I thought to myself, maybe this would be a damn good idea,” Ralph laughs now. He signed the application.
The others had gone out to lunch. The R.C.A.F. officer began calling out names. Only Hofer answered. It was all very simple. All he had to do was get his birth certificate. He got that and he was in.
Ralph began his training and one afternoon on a short leave he was riding down Chicago’s Lake Street in a black sedan. The owner of the sedan was pretty and Hofer was a pretty slick sight himself in his R.C.A.F. blue cadet uniform.
Suddenly another car pulled out in front and Hofer jammed on the brakes. The driver jumped out and hurried up to Hofer.
“I’ve been looking all over hell for you,” the guy panted.
“Who me,’ Hofer gulped, figuring he had either run a red light or had caught up with the gal’s steady.
“Look I-er-“ Ralph stated to explain.
“Tell you what I want,” resumed the stranger in a more even breath. “I want to know first if that’s an authentic R.C.A.F. cadet uniform and if you are a cadet?”
Hofer gulped again in relief and said: “Yeah this is the uniform and I’m what we call an L.A.C.”
“Well that’s great,” beamed the stranger. “I’m an advertising man. Got a studio over on Michigan boulevard. Coca-Cola is one of my clients. I want you to pose with an American cadet and a Coke bottle. I’ll want to take about five shots and I’ll give you $10 for each one.”
Ralph felt a little bashful, but the babe with the sedan urged him on. Hofer showed up at the studio later that day, posed with an American cadet, received his check and left.
“The guy explained that these advertising campaigns were planned a long time ahead and that it would be about two years before I’d see myself on the billboards,” Ralph explains now. “He also told me that, although he wouldn’t want the Pepsi-Cola people to know it, he didn’t mind telling me that the slogan with this ad was to be “Thirst Knows No Boundaries.”
In April of 1942, Ralph’s sister, Mrs. Mildred Schreiber, who now lives in Montana, wrote him that he was plastered all over the billboards and in the slick paper mags. For a while Ralph became the Cola-Cola Kid.
Life was pretty rosy for Hofer in those days in Canada. He trained at Quebec City, spent a lot of time around the Chateau Frontenac, dancing and swimming. On his twenty-first birthday, he got his wings in the R.C.A.F. at New Brunswick and started home for a lost goodbye, but a gal in New Brunswick got him sort of interested and he failed to get back home. In October of 1942, he landed here in England and found out he was in for still more schooling.
Hofer got tired of school. He got tired “of doing nothing.” In June of 1943 he changed from the blue of the R.A.F. to the brown of the American Air Force and last October finally got his first chance at a Jerry. It was axiomatic that a pilot went on 10 or 12 missions before his eyes were good enough to even see a Jerry, let alone bag one.
Hofer got a Jerry on his first mission and shot up a flak boat to boot. The veterans said it couldn’t be, but Hofer had a combat film to show for it. Before long he was the only flight officer in England who was an ace. He already had five Hun crosses on his kite. Since then there’s been no stopping him.
Hofer has torn up a flock of airplanes for the A.A.F. worn quite a few others completely out.
There was “L’ for lover or lucky” a fancy job Hofer fixed up with red wheels and white wall tires, red stripes around the nose and a fox tail flying from the antenna. Now Hofer flies the “Salem Representative,” decorated with a Missouri mule wearing boxing gloves on all four feet.
Hofer is always picked for hot jobs – hot targets. He always get the job done, but his method is not always orthodox.
For instance one day he started out with his group for a hot target, developed a little trouble over the channel and had to turn back. He landed on this field in a fit of temper at missing the show, discovered from the ground crew chief that trouble was only a matter of loose bolt of something like that. The chief twisted the bolt and Hofer jumped back in his plane and took off for Germany - alone.
He sort of picked his own targets, shot up a mess of stuff, and got back, pleased as punch at being able to put on this informal show. His C.O. didn’t see things the same way, and Ralph got a pretty heavy restriction.
Hofer has been just about every place that fighters have gone in this show. To Munich, the Spanish border, to Paris and Berlin. His closed shave came on a trip to Munich. His radio went out and he had to drop his belly tanks when the fighters were bounced by a bunch of ME-109s.
With no radio Hofer soon found himself lost from his group and the first thing he knew he was a one man escort for the bombers. Of course, this was just the sort of show he liked, so he chased the enemy fighters through the clouds, bagged two of them, and was about to attack some more when he discovered that that he had a run-away prop.
“I was losing flying speed, down to about 6,000 feet and barely moving along,” Hofer says. “There were Germans and Flying Fortresses all around. The ‘forts’ were bombing right through me and the flak was coming up all around me.”
He shudders a bit when he think of how near he came to bailing out on this trip. He’ll fight a Jerry in the air and never turn a chestnut hair. But he’s never jumped from a plane. On this trip he seriously considered bailing out, remembered that the Jerries always bailed out over the right side, undid his safety belt, opened the canopy, pulled the stick back to give his plane altitude for the jump – when something happened.
As the plane orbited, the motor came back with a roar. The altered altitude of the plave had in some way affected the prop and as it caught, Hofer started speculating on making it back to England. He calculated his gas, thought maybe he better set down in Switzerland. It wouldn’t be so bad in Switzerland. He’d heard there was plenty of butter, eggs and blondes there, but then he got to thinking about his combat film. By this time he was flying over the Alps and Lake Constance.
“Gee,” he says. “The Alps are beautiful and you should see that lake. But anyway, I knew nobody would believe my story so I shot pictures of the scenery just to prove where I’d been.”
With the uncanny instinct that is his, Hofer flew until he figured he’d exhausted exactly half his gas. Then he headed for home. When he set down on his base he had exactly six gallons of gas.
Everyone said, “a stunt like that is just like that screwball Hofer.”
On D-Day, Hofer went over and shot up a few targets. On June 11, he went over and bombed a couple of tanks, set four trucks on fire, and ran into a Jerry 25 miles back of the enemy lines, who made a sieve out of his oil system. Hofer crash on the airstrip, which luckily turned out to be one of ours, got drunk on pure grain alcohol and grapefruit juice, slept through the fire storm of the naval guns over the beach, hoped a ride on a DC3 the next day and landed in England with a headache built for a horse.
Fighter Command sent an escort after Hofer. He doesn’t know whether it’s because he’s valuable enough to rate a personal escort, or because the powers that be figured he wouldn’t get back for days if left to his own devices.
Hofer differs from a lot of flyers who wouldn’t leave the ground without some “good luck” piece about him. He once wore a silver snake ring with two big diamonds for eyes on his throttle hand, but he says it doesn’t mean a thing. Besides it now reposes on the left hand of a babe in London. He says that doesn’t mean a thing either.
He has been shot down a few times, ditched in the channel a couple of others, but has always emerged without a scar. His only beauty mark is a white ridge across his forehead. He got that failing out of a Missouri haymow as a child.
Six feet tall, Hofer weighs 185 pounds, says the day he gets back, he’s going to celebrate with a beer party, barbeque beef cooked over a wood fire, and a blonde, preferably around the age of 21. His favorite music is the Ink Spots, he likes to waltz, and he thinks the Mustang P-51 is the greatest fighter ever built.
He’ll take on 50 ME-109s or a whole flock of FW 190s single-handed, but won’t, but won’t be jabbed in the arm for inoculations.
Right now Hofer, the hero, is being deprived of his beer for being a bit stubborn about taking his booster shots.
“They make me sick is his only explanation,” is his only explanation.
The Salem News, June 15, 1944
- The Salem News
- Updated
According to news reports heard over radio stations today (Thursday) Lt. Ralph K. Hofer, known in Salem as junior Halbrook, is reported to have been shot down over enemy territory in Europe.
After landing Hofer managed to return through the lines to an allied station, where he is said to be spending his time reading a copy of Hitler’s “Mein Kampf,” while awaiting arrival of another mustang fighter.
Lt. Hofer has made an outstanding record for the destruction of 30 Nazi planes on his missions over Europe.
The Salem News, June 29, 1944
- The Salem News
- Updated
The Salem News, June 29, 1944
- The Salem News
- Updated
Few men among the American fighting forces below the rank of higher generals, have done as much to give recognition to their home town as has Ralph K. Hofer of Salem.
Lt. Hofer, who was known as Junior Halbrook, not only seems to have a faculty for setting new records in number of Nazi planes destroyed, but apparently enjoys furnishings every newspaper man he meets with good copy for publicly that has been carried by the Associated Press throughout the United States.
The Magazine Section of the Sunday edition of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch carried a front page feature story written by War Correspondent Virginia Irwin, from a fighter base, somewhere in England.
This story on the, “Screwball Ace of the Air Forces,” says his fellow pilots credit Lt. Hofer with being the last of the real daredevils of the sky. In none of his interviews does Hofer fail to mentio his hometown as Salem, Missouri.
Recognized as one of the great American fighter aces of this war “Hofe” admitted that “No guy minds being a hero,” when he had returned to his base in England after landing on an air strip in Normandy when a Jerry shot up the engine of his crate and made a sieve of his oil system.
Lt. Hofer has been officially credited with the destruction of 32 enemy panes – 16 ½ kills in the air and 15 ½ destroyed on the ground. He has probably already added others to his record.
The above picture of Lt. Hofer receiving the Distinguished Flying Cross, has been furnished us through the courtesy of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.
At the time Hofer equaled the record of 30 planes destroyed, the Chamber of Commerce of Salem prepared a personal letter sent by air mail to Lt. Hofer, signed by more than 30 of the business men of the town, commending him for his outstanding record.
Following is the letter which was mailed on June 3rd:
Dear Junior,
All of Salem has been reading about your marvelous success as a Mustang fighter pilot, and we, as members of the Chamber of Commerce, are proud of the record which you have achieved thus far, and want to extend to you our best wishes for your future success.
To all of us, you are still Junior Halbrook, the Golden Glover that we saw in action during the golden Glove Tournament held here by the Lions Club of Salem.
Your outstanding success and tenacity of purpose as an Ace with the American Air Forces, is reminiscent of the persistent demonstrated during your days of amateur boxing in Salem.
CONGRADULATIONS!! You are undoubtedly Salem’s No. 1 fighter, and we are quite proud to have Salem mentioned as your home town in all the dispatches now appearing in the metropolitan newspapers containing stories of your destruction of Nazi planes. We have every confidence you will continue ths fine work until you have set a new high record of your own- and we are all pulling for you.
You have the sincere good wishes of all of us for your continued success and a pleasant trip home soon.
Sincerely yours,
The Chamber of Commerce
The Salem News, July 13, 1944
- The Salem News
- Updated
Lt. Ralph K. Hofer, of Salem, Mo., is reading Mein Kampf (Hitler’s murder mystery) while awaiting his crew chief to ready the seventh P-51 Mustang he has flown since becoming a member of Col. Don Blakeless’s fighting group last October.
Five other pilots to whom Hofer’s Mustang was assigned on this occasion were shot down, but Hofer was shot down in No. 6 himself. On June 11 ground fire made a sieve of Hofer’s oil system over the French beachhead.
“I’m going down,’ he said over the radio to his squadron commander.
“Which side of the lines are you on?” replied the C.O.
“Our Side,” Hofer said.
“Okay, fellow, I’ll see ya tomorray,” said the C.O. “And get me a helmet too.”
When he broke of the cloud layer to land, he happened to eb over n allied landing strip at the beachhead. He landed. He was equipped with rifle, helmet and jeep for a tour of the battle lines.
At one German concrete redoubt Hofer stepped over some late Nazis and helped himself to souvenirs which included a German helmet, canteen and the copy of Mein Kampf drawn from a circulating library by a Jerry named Rudy on Jan. 3.
Next day Hofer returned to his station in England and was met by Robert A. Lovett, assistant Secretary of War for Air; and Maj. Gen. William Kepner, VIII Fighter Command chief, who happened to be visiting Col. Blakeslee.
Meanwhile, Hofer peruses Mein Kampf and waits for his crew chief to paint “Salem Representative” and 29 swastikas on his cowling (16 ½ in the air, 12 ½ aground).
Hofer’s associates, who compose the highest scoring group in the ETO with nearly 600 plans destroyed aloft and aground., tell him he’s lucky. For example, the time he circled for five or ten minutes over Switzerland to bail out, changed his mind and returned to England with six gallons of gas. And then this time, when his motor chose to fail over the one friendly landing ground in France. But then the AAF is sort of lucky, too, because it’s strictly accidental that Hofer is a pilot.
A former Golden Glove boxing champion, Hofer was enroute to California to do some fighting when he visited Windsor, Ontario, and was inadvertently led to the RCAF enlistment booth. They shoved an application at him and he didn’t see why he shouldn’t join. Subsequently, he was transferred to the AAF and on his first mission last October, destroyed a Focke-Wulf 190. On invasion day, Hofer stopped two German trains.
Upon his return from the beachhead the “Salem Representative” found a letter from the Salem Chamber of Commerce. It was a congratulatory message on his previous record and wishing him success in the future.
The Salem News, July 13, 1944
- The Salem News
- Updated
The Salem News, July 20, 1944
- The Salem News
- Updated
The Salem News, August 31, 1944
- The Salem News
- Updated
The Salem News, August 31, 1944
- The Salem News
- Updated
1st Lieut. Ralph K. Hofer, known in Salem and Dent County as Junior Halbrook before he entered the service, is reported in action over Hungary, July 2nd, according to word received by Mr. and Mrs. Clyde Halbrook, from his mother, Mrs. Opal Hofer of Vancouver, Washington.
Lieut. Hofer had received much publicity for his daring activities as a Mustang fighter pilot, and his interviews with newspaper men, he never failed to refer to Salem, Missouri, as his home altho’ he entered the Royal Canadian Flying Corps from Chicago.
In a feature story written by War Correspondent Virginia Irwin of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, she refers to him as the “Screwball Ace of the Air Forces,” and said his fellow pilots refer to him as being the last pf the real daredevils of the sky.
He was officially credited with the destruction of 32 enemy planes - 16 ½ kills in the air and 15 ½ destroyed on the ground; and had been awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for his outstanding performance.
Shortly before he was reported missing, Lieut. Hofer had the experience of of being shot down on the first allied airstrip established in France during the early days of the invasion. A shot in the oil line of his plane forced him to make a crash landing, and he later returned to his base in England with a German helmet and a copy of Hitler’s Mein Kampf.
Junior Halbrook has a lot of friends in Salem and Dent County who had seen him as an amateur boxer in the Golden gloves tournaments here. Since his transfer to the RCFC into the United States Army Air Forces, his friends had watched his record amount with sincere pride.
The Chamber of Commerce of Salem wrote Lieut. Hofer a letter of congratulations and good wishes at the time he was credited with a total of 30 enemy planes destroyed. This letter was signed by the officials of the Chamber of Commerce and bore the original signatures of 30 business men of Salem.
All of us had hoped that he might someday return to Salem to receive the tribute from his friends as a “real hero of the sky.” His failure to return will only add glory to the fine record of this boy of the Ozarks established in the finest company known.
The Salem News, December 14, 1944
- The Salem News
- Updated
The above picture of Ralph K. Hofer, showing the Salem Representative” insignia on the side of his Mustang fighter plane is reprinted through the courtesy of “The Red Barrel;” dealer publication of The Coca-Cola Company.
This picture was published in The Red Barrel which gave a complete story of the “Welcome Friend” posted used by the Coca-Cola Company in its national advertising, for which Hofer posed in Chicago while still a cadet in the Royal Canadian Air Force.
The above picture was taken after Lt. Hofer had transferred to the American Army Air Force as a fighter pilot. The Maltese crosses on the side of his plane designate the number of German planes the pilot had accounted for in action at that time.
The artist who designed the insignia for Salem Representative” apparently knew much of Hofer’s early career. The Missouri mule with its wings, and wearing the boxing gloves and trunks of a fighter, recall the pilot’s activities when he lived in Salem and was sent to the Golden Gloves boxing tournament in St. Louis as a representative of the Salem Lions Club. He was known here as Junior Halbrook.
Lt. Hofer was reported killed in action over Hungary on July 2nd of this year, after he had been officially credited with the destruction of 32 enemy planes.
The Salem News, March 23, 1944
- The Salem News
Flight Officer Ralpk K. Hofer has become an aerial ace, having been credited with the destruction of five German planes. Hofer is now serving with the Eighth Air Force, and formerly made his home in Salem where was known as Junior Halbrook.
Lieut. Hofer was fortunate enough to down a German plane on his first mission over Germany last fall. Prior to his transfer to the American Air Forces, Hofer served some time with the Royal Canadian Air Force as an enlisted man and fighter pilot.
There are now a total of 15 aces in the fighter group with which Hofer is serving.
On a recent interview at the American fighter base in England, some of the pilots had reported sighting new German four-engined interceptors, but it was later learned they were twin-engined Messerschmitt 110’s carrying two big rocket guns beside the motors.
“I shot down one of those ME-110’s myself yesterday,” said curly haired. Boyish faced Lt. Ralph Hofer, 22, of Salem, Mo. “It had me fooled for a while. When I dived down I saw what I believed to be four engines, was really only our old friend the ME-110, packing two huge rocket guns under its wings beside the motors.”
The Salem News, June 1, 1944
- The Salem News
First Lt. Ralph K. Hofer, known here as Junior Halbrook, is rapidly becoming Salem’s No. 1 hero of the War for his outstanding record of destruction of Nazi panes, as a mustang fighter pilot with the Army Air Force in England.
Announcement arrived Wednesday, May 31, from a fighter base in England the Lt. Hofer had destroyed three German training planes on the ground that day, tying the record of Major James Goodson of Toronto Canada, who holds the high ground score of fighter pilots in the European theater, with 15 planes destroyed to his credit.
Both pilots have also shot down 15 planes in the air. Both Hofer and Goodson are Ace members of the Mustang group commanded by Co. Donald Blakeslee of Ohio, with which Captain Don Gentile of Piqua, Ohio, amassed his score of 23 kills in the air and seven on the ground.
According to the announcement from the base in England, after escorting bombers on the day’s mission Wednesday, Hofer left the rest of his group in a cloud and went on a hunting expedition over Germany by himself. He arrived back at his base sometime after his companions with his tail of his plane peppered by Nazi attacks.
Hofer told the others that when he shot up the trainers “they went up like so much gas-soaked paper.” He is credited with 13 kills while flying four missions in the last four days.
Lt. Hofer made his home in Salem for some time before entering the service, and represented the Salem Lion’s Club in the Golden Glove tournament in St. Louis several years ago. He later went to Chicago, where his mother, Mrs. Opal Hofer, lived at that time, and did considerable amateur boxing there.
He enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force under the name of Ralph K. Hofer in June of 1940. With the RCAF he became a flight sergeant before he was transferred into the U.S. Army Air Forces. He was fortunate enough to shoot down a German ME-109 on the first mission he flew over Germany as a combat pilot with the Army Air Force.
His recent successes would indicate that Lt. Hofer is determined to set a record of his own in the European Theater, and his friends in Salem and Dent County are wishing him continued good fortune.
The young Ace’s mother, Mrs. Opal Hofer, now resides at Vancouver, Washington. He also has a sister, Mrs. Warren C. Schreiber, at Great Falls, Montana., who is wife os S/Sgt. Warran Scheiber, also serving with the Army Air Forces.
Clyde Halbrook of Salem, and Arthur Halbrook, south of Salem, are uncles; and Mrs. M.L. Norris, both of Salem, are aunts of Lt. Hofer, who is receiving national recognition for destruction of his full share of Nazi air forces.
At the meeting of the Chamber of Commerce held Wednesday, plans were made for writing Lt. Hofer a letter of commendation and encouragement, the letter to be signed by individuals and business firms of Salem, who recognize and appreciate his excellent fighting spirit.
The St. Louis Post-Dispatch, June 25, 1944
- The St. Louis Post-Dispatch
When Lt. Ralph K. Hofer of Salem, Mo. Comes home one of these days the Old Show-Me State will admit it’s been shown and toss a terrific celebration for the lad who is now one of great American fighter aces of this war. “Hofe” sort of hopes there is some sort of a shindig in his honor, says it would be a nice way to end up the merry-go-round he’s been in since smeared his first Jerry last October. He hopes though that there won’t be any of those hero-stuff speeches.
“No guy minds being a hero,” Hofer told me the other day – the day, incidentally, on which he returned to this base in England after landing on an airstrip in Normandy after a Jerry shot up the engine of his crate and made a sieve of his oil system.
“In fact, I kinda like the idea of being a hero. But if they toss in that old stuff about how I helped to liberate the conquered peoples of Europe I’ll go beet red.”
A less straight thinking lad than Hofer might himself in time come to believe in that “idealistic hero stuff.” But Hofer never will. He got into this flying racket on a fluke, not because he nursed beautiful ideas of duty to humanity. That he turned out to be one of the hottest pilots ever to maneuver a Mustang over enemy territory he regards as “just one of those things.”
Fearless in the air, ralph now has a total of 32 enemy planes to his credit – 16 ½ in the air and 15 ½ enemy planes destroyed on the ground. But more than this record, he has a reputation among flyers of being “the last of the few,” the last of the few real daredevils, the last of the few real screwballs who fly for the hell of it, live for the hell of fighting and count that day lost when the Jerries run for home and fail to close in for the fight.
An individualist, Hofer antics in the Air Forces are already tradition. Willful and boyish, he has never yet realized he is a soldier. He has a chronic smile, usually wears his hair long in a chestnut mane, has the blouse of his Class A uniform tailored in Zoot suit fashion, and even when suffering from the most classic of hangovers has a twinkle of bright, blue eyes that rescue him from many a scrape.
Born on a farm outside of Salem, Mo. , Ralph was known in those parts, until his mother remarried, as Junior Halbrook. He received his gradeschooling outside Warfel, Mo. Whe Mrs. Opal Hofer went to Chicago, Ralph took that name, enrolled in Wright Junior College and had ambitions of being a commercial artist. In Chicago he went in for a little boxing, was good enough to win a trophy in the Golden Gloves Boxing Tournament in the light-heavyweight division, played some semi-pro football in a Chicago league.
But his specialty was boxing. He met Billy Conn in Chicago, and Conn, flattered by the kid’s admiration for him, went a few rounds with Hofer at Trafton’s Gym.
“He was easy on me,” Hofer says. “But I sure got a thrill out of it.”
Later, Ralph did some professional fighting under the name Halbrook. He liked the “scientific angle” of boxing, but he didn’t relish hurting anybody.
Restless, he moved back to Missouri four years ago and got himself a job as a timekeeper at Fort Leonard Wood.
“I saved a little money, sold my car and invested the whole works in the fanciest sports suits I could match together,” he explained. “You see I had made up my mind to got to California and I figured nobody ought to go to California without some pretty hot sports suits.”
To pick up still a little extra cash, in 1941 Ralph went to Detroit to try and snag some of the purses to be picked up in the American Legion bouts. He had also run across a deal to get his expenses paid by for driving a ’42 model Hudson to a West Coast agent. While waiting for the new model Hudson to come off the line, he crossed over to Windsor, Ontario. When he emerged from the tunnel under the Detroit River, an immigration official stopped him.
“Came over here to join up with the R.C.A.F. I suppose?” said the official thinking Hofer as dozens before him had.
“Well I-“ stammered Hofer.
“That building right over there is where you go,” interrupted the official.
Ralph had never been near an airplane. He wasn’t even interested in them. Inside the building, however, youngsters from all over the States began welcoming him. They told him what a good deal the R.C.A.F. was. Somebody shoved an application from at him.
“I thought to myself, maybe this would be a damn good idea,” Ralph laughs now. He signed the application.
The others had gone out to lunch. The R.C.A.F. officer began calling out names. Only Hofer answered. It was all very simple. All he had to do was get his birth certificate. He got that and he was in.
Ralph began his training and one afternoon on a short leave he was riding down Chicago’s Lake Street in a black sedan. The owner of the sedan was pretty and Hofer was a pretty slick sight himself in his R.C.A.F. blue cadet uniform.
Suddenly another car pulled out in front and Hofer jammed on the brakes. The driver jumped out and hurried up to Hofer.
“I’ve been looking all over hell for you,” the guy panted.
“Who me,’ Hofer gulped, figuring he had either run a red light or had caught up with the gal’s steady.
“Look I-er-“ Ralph stated to explain.
“Tell you what I want,” resumed the stranger in a more even breath. “I want to know first if that’s an authentic R.C.A.F. cadet uniform and if you are a cadet?”
Hofer gulped again in relief and said: “Yeah this is the uniform and I’m what we call an L.A.C.”
“Well that’s great,” beamed the stranger. “I’m an advertising man. Got a studio over on Michigan boulevard. Coca-Cola is one of my clients. I want you to pose with an American cadet and a Coke bottle. I’ll want to take about five shots and I’ll give you $10 for each one.”
Ralph felt a little bashful, but the babe with the sedan urged him on. Hofer showed up at the studio later that day, posed with an American cadet, received his check and left.
“The guy explained that these advertising campaigns were planned a long time ahead and that it would be about two years before I’d see myself on the billboards,” Ralph explains now. “He also told me that, although he wouldn’t want the Pepsi-Cola people to know it, he didn’t mind telling me that the slogan with this ad was to be “Thirst Knows No Boundaries.”
In April of 1942, Ralph’s sister, Mrs. Mildred Schreiber, who now lives in Montana, wrote him that he was plastered all over the billboards and in the slick paper mags. For a while Ralph became the Cola-Cola Kid.
Life was pretty rosy for Hofer in those days in Canada. He trained at Quebec City, spent a lot of time around the Chateau Frontenac, dancing and swimming. On his twenty-first birthday, he got his wings in the R.C.A.F. at New Brunswick and started home for a lost goodbye, but a gal in New Brunswick got him sort of interested and he failed to get back home. In October of 1942, he landed here in England and found out he was in for still more schooling.
Hofer got tired of school. He got tired “of doing nothing.” In June of 1943 he changed from the blue of the R.A.F. to the brown of the American Air Force and last October finally got his first chance at a Jerry. It was axiomatic that a pilot went on 10 or 12 missions before his eyes were good enough to even see a Jerry, let alone bag one.
Hofer got a Jerry on his first mission and shot up a flak boat to boot. The veterans said it couldn’t be, but Hofer had a combat film to show for it. Before long he was the only flight officer in England who was an ace. He already had five Hun crosses on his kite. Since then there’s been no stopping him.
Hofer has torn up a flock of airplanes for the A.A.F. worn quite a few others completely out.
There was “L’ for lover or lucky” a fancy job Hofer fixed up with red wheels and white wall tires, red stripes around the nose and a fox tail flying from the antenna. Now Hofer flies the “Salem Representative,” decorated with a Missouri mule wearing boxing gloves on all four feet.
Hofer is always picked for hot jobs – hot targets. He always get the job done, but his method is not always orthodox.
For instance one day he started out with his group for a hot target, developed a little trouble over the channel and had to turn back. He landed on this field in a fit of temper at missing the show, discovered from the ground crew chief that trouble was only a matter of loose bolt of something like that. The chief twisted the bolt and Hofer jumped back in his plane and took off for Germany - alone.
He sort of picked his own targets, shot up a mess of stuff, and got back, pleased as punch at being able to put on this informal show. His C.O. didn’t see things the same way, and Ralph got a pretty heavy restriction.
Hofer has been just about every place that fighters have gone in this show. To Munich, the Spanish border, to Paris and Berlin. His closed shave came on a trip to Munich. His radio went out and he had to drop his belly tanks when the fighters were bounced by a bunch of ME-109s.
With no radio Hofer soon found himself lost from his group and the first thing he knew he was a one man escort for the bombers. Of course, this was just the sort of show he liked, so he chased the enemy fighters through the clouds, bagged two of them, and was about to attack some more when he discovered that that he had a run-away prop.
“I was losing flying speed, down to about 6,000 feet and barely moving along,” Hofer says. “There were Germans and Flying Fortresses all around. The ‘forts’ were bombing right through me and the flak was coming up all around me.”
He shudders a bit when he think of how near he came to bailing out on this trip. He’ll fight a Jerry in the air and never turn a chestnut hair. But he’s never jumped from a plane. On this trip he seriously considered bailing out, remembered that the Jerries always bailed out over the right side, undid his safety belt, opened the canopy, pulled the stick back to give his plane altitude for the jump – when something happened.
As the plane orbited, the motor came back with a roar. The altered altitude of the plave had in some way affected the prop and as it caught, Hofer started speculating on making it back to England. He calculated his gas, thought maybe he better set down in Switzerland. It wouldn’t be so bad in Switzerland. He’d heard there was plenty of butter, eggs and blondes there, but then he got to thinking about his combat film. By this time he was flying over the Alps and Lake Constance.
“Gee,” he says. “The Alps are beautiful and you should see that lake. But anyway, I knew nobody would believe my story so I shot pictures of the scenery just to prove where I’d been.”
With the uncanny instinct that is his, Hofer flew until he figured he’d exhausted exactly half his gas. Then he headed for home. When he set down on his base he had exactly six gallons of gas.
Everyone said, “a stunt like that is just like that screwball Hofer.”
On D-Day, Hofer went over and shot up a few targets. On June 11, he went over and bombed a couple of tanks, set four trucks on fire, and ran into a Jerry 25 miles back of the enemy lines, who made a sieve out of his oil system. Hofer crash on the airstrip, which luckily turned out to be one of ours, got drunk on pure grain alcohol and grapefruit juice, slept through the fire storm of the naval guns over the beach, hoped a ride on a DC3 the next day and landed in England with a headache built for a horse.
Fighter Command sent an escort after Hofer. He doesn’t know whether it’s because he’s valuable enough to rate a personal escort, or because the powers that be figured he wouldn’t get back for days if left to his own devices.
Hofer differs from a lot of flyers who wouldn’t leave the ground without some “good luck” piece about him. He once wore a silver snake ring with two big diamonds for eyes on his throttle hand, but he says it doesn’t mean a thing. Besides it now reposes on the left hand of a babe in London. He says that doesn’t mean a thing either.
He has been shot down a few times, ditched in the channel a couple of others, but has always emerged without a scar. His only beauty mark is a white ridge across his forehead. He got that failing out of a Missouri haymow as a child.
Six feet tall, Hofer weighs 185 pounds, says the day he gets back, he’s going to celebrate with a beer party, barbeque beef cooked over a wood fire, and a blonde, preferably around the age of 21. His favorite music is the Ink Spots, he likes to waltz, and he thinks the Mustang P-51 is the greatest fighter ever built.
He’ll take on 50 ME-109s or a whole flock of FW 190s single-handed, but won’t, but won’t be jabbed in the arm for inoculations.
Right now Hofer, the hero, is being deprived of his beer for being a bit stubborn about taking his booster shots.
“They make me sick is his only explanation,” is his only explanation.
The Salem News, June 15, 1944
- The Salem News
According to news reports heard over radio stations today (Thursday) Lt. Ralph K. Hofer, known in Salem as junior Halbrook, is reported to have been shot down over enemy territory in Europe.
After landing Hofer managed to return through the lines to an allied station, where he is said to be spending his time reading a copy of Hitler’s “Mein Kampf,” while awaiting arrival of another mustang fighter.
Lt. Hofer has made an outstanding record for the destruction of 30 Nazi planes on his missions over Europe.
The Salem News, June 29, 1944
- The Salem News
Few men among the American fighting forces below the rank of higher generals, have done as much to give recognition to their home town as has Ralph K. Hofer of Salem.
Lt. Hofer, who was known as Junior Halbrook, not only seems to have a faculty for setting new records in number of Nazi planes destroyed, but apparently enjoys furnishings every newspaper man he meets with good copy for publicly that has been carried by the Associated Press throughout the United States.
The Magazine Section of the Sunday edition of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch carried a front page feature story written by War Correspondent Virginia Irwin, from a fighter base, somewhere in England.
This story on the, “Screwball Ace of the Air Forces,” says his fellow pilots credit Lt. Hofer with being the last of the real daredevils of the sky. In none of his interviews does Hofer fail to mentio his hometown as Salem, Missouri.
Recognized as one of the great American fighter aces of this war “Hofe” admitted that “No guy minds being a hero,” when he had returned to his base in England after landing on an air strip in Normandy when a Jerry shot up the engine of his crate and made a sieve of his oil system.
Lt. Hofer has been officially credited with the destruction of 32 enemy panes – 16 ½ kills in the air and 15 ½ destroyed on the ground. He has probably already added others to his record.
The above picture of Lt. Hofer receiving the Distinguished Flying Cross, has been furnished us through the courtesy of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.
At the time Hofer equaled the record of 30 planes destroyed, the Chamber of Commerce of Salem prepared a personal letter sent by air mail to Lt. Hofer, signed by more than 30 of the business men of the town, commending him for his outstanding record.
Following is the letter which was mailed on June 3rd:
Dear Junior,
All of Salem has been reading about your marvelous success as a Mustang fighter pilot, and we, as members of the Chamber of Commerce, are proud of the record which you have achieved thus far, and want to extend to you our best wishes for your future success.
To all of us, you are still Junior Halbrook, the Golden Glover that we saw in action during the golden Glove Tournament held here by the Lions Club of Salem.
Your outstanding success and tenacity of purpose as an Ace with the American Air Forces, is reminiscent of the persistent demonstrated during your days of amateur boxing in Salem.
CONGRADULATIONS!! You are undoubtedly Salem’s No. 1 fighter, and we are quite proud to have Salem mentioned as your home town in all the dispatches now appearing in the metropolitan newspapers containing stories of your destruction of Nazi planes. We have every confidence you will continue ths fine work until you have set a new high record of your own- and we are all pulling for you.
You have the sincere good wishes of all of us for your continued success and a pleasant trip home soon.
Sincerely yours,
The Chamber of Commerce
The Salem News, July 13, 1944
- The Salem News
Lt. Ralph K. Hofer, of Salem, Mo., is reading Mein Kampf (Hitler’s murder mystery) while awaiting his crew chief to ready the seventh P-51 Mustang he has flown since becoming a member of Col. Don Blakeless’s fighting group last October.
Five other pilots to whom Hofer’s Mustang was assigned on this occasion were shot down, but Hofer was shot down in No. 6 himself. On June 11 ground fire made a sieve of Hofer’s oil system over the French beachhead.
“I’m going down,’ he said over the radio to his squadron commander.
“Which side of the lines are you on?” replied the C.O.
“Our Side,” Hofer said.
“Okay, fellow, I’ll see ya tomorray,” said the C.O. “And get me a helmet too.”
When he broke of the cloud layer to land, he happened to eb over n allied landing strip at the beachhead. He landed. He was equipped with rifle, helmet and jeep for a tour of the battle lines.
At one German concrete redoubt Hofer stepped over some late Nazis and helped himself to souvenirs which included a German helmet, canteen and the copy of Mein Kampf drawn from a circulating library by a Jerry named Rudy on Jan. 3.
Next day Hofer returned to his station in England and was met by Robert A. Lovett, assistant Secretary of War for Air; and Maj. Gen. William Kepner, VIII Fighter Command chief, who happened to be visiting Col. Blakeslee.
Meanwhile, Hofer peruses Mein Kampf and waits for his crew chief to paint “Salem Representative” and 29 swastikas on his cowling (16 ½ in the air, 12 ½ aground).
Hofer’s associates, who compose the highest scoring group in the ETO with nearly 600 plans destroyed aloft and aground., tell him he’s lucky. For example, the time he circled for five or ten minutes over Switzerland to bail out, changed his mind and returned to England with six gallons of gas. And then this time, when his motor chose to fail over the one friendly landing ground in France. But then the AAF is sort of lucky, too, because it’s strictly accidental that Hofer is a pilot.
A former Golden Glove boxing champion, Hofer was enroute to California to do some fighting when he visited Windsor, Ontario, and was inadvertently led to the RCAF enlistment booth. They shoved an application at him and he didn’t see why he shouldn’t join. Subsequently, he was transferred to the AAF and on his first mission last October, destroyed a Focke-Wulf 190. On invasion day, Hofer stopped two German trains.
Upon his return from the beachhead the “Salem Representative” found a letter from the Salem Chamber of Commerce. It was a congratulatory message on his previous record and wishing him success in the future.
The Salem News, August 31, 1944
- The Salem News
1st Lieut. Ralph K. Hofer, known in Salem and Dent County as Junior Halbrook before he entered the service, is reported in action over Hungary, July 2nd, according to word received by Mr. and Mrs. Clyde Halbrook, from his mother, Mrs. Opal Hofer of Vancouver, Washington.
Lieut. Hofer had received much publicity for his daring activities as a Mustang fighter pilot, and his interviews with newspaper men, he never failed to refer to Salem, Missouri, as his home altho’ he entered the Royal Canadian Flying Corps from Chicago.
In a feature story written by War Correspondent Virginia Irwin of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, she refers to him as the “Screwball Ace of the Air Forces,” and said his fellow pilots refer to him as being the last pf the real daredevils of the sky.
He was officially credited with the destruction of 32 enemy planes - 16 ½ kills in the air and 15 ½ destroyed on the ground; and had been awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for his outstanding performance.
Shortly before he was reported missing, Lieut. Hofer had the experience of of being shot down on the first allied airstrip established in France during the early days of the invasion. A shot in the oil line of his plane forced him to make a crash landing, and he later returned to his base in England with a German helmet and a copy of Hitler’s Mein Kampf.
Junior Halbrook has a lot of friends in Salem and Dent County who had seen him as an amateur boxer in the Golden gloves tournaments here. Since his transfer to the RCFC into the United States Army Air Forces, his friends had watched his record amount with sincere pride.
The Chamber of Commerce of Salem wrote Lieut. Hofer a letter of congratulations and good wishes at the time he was credited with a total of 30 enemy planes destroyed. This letter was signed by the officials of the Chamber of Commerce and bore the original signatures of 30 business men of Salem.
All of us had hoped that he might someday return to Salem to receive the tribute from his friends as a “real hero of the sky.” His failure to return will only add glory to the fine record of this boy of the Ozarks established in the finest company known.
The Salem News, December 14, 1944
- The Salem News
The above picture of Ralph K. Hofer, showing the Salem Representative” insignia on the side of his Mustang fighter plane is reprinted through the courtesy of “The Red Barrel;” dealer publication of The Coca-Cola Company.
This picture was published in The Red Barrel which gave a complete story of the “Welcome Friend” posted used by the Coca-Cola Company in its national advertising, for which Hofer posed in Chicago while still a cadet in the Royal Canadian Air Force.
The above picture was taken after Lt. Hofer had transferred to the American Army Air Force as a fighter pilot. The Maltese crosses on the side of his plane designate the number of German planes the pilot had accounted for in action at that time.
The artist who designed the insignia for Salem Representative” apparently knew much of Hofer’s early career. The Missouri mule with its wings, and wearing the boxing gloves and trunks of a fighter, recall the pilot’s activities when he lived in Salem and was sent to the Golden Gloves boxing tournament in St. Louis as a representative of the Salem Lions Club. He was known here as Junior Halbrook.
Lt. Hofer was reported killed in action over Hungary on July 2nd of this year, after he had been officially credited with the destruction of 32 enemy planes.
As featured on
Through four years and hundreds of editions The Salem News updated readers on the latest dev…
Most Popular
Articles
Images
Videos
Sorry, there are no recent results for popular videos.
Commented
Sorry, there are no recent results for popular commented articles.
Real Estate
STATE, REGIONAL NEWS
St. Louis Post Dispatch
Springfield News-Leader
NATIONAL NEWS
USA Today