A deadly plane crash. A cryptic epitaph. And mysteries that endured for decades.

Their story ended with a cryptic epitaph on a Marietta National Cemetery headstone: Died in a plane crash WWII April 29, 1942. And our interest in this story began with that same epitaph.

General William T. Sherman once proclaimed, “War is hell.” And in a story hidden behind a mysterious memorial at Marietta National Cemetery, we learned that even training for war holds its own dangerous risks and gruesome outcomes.

Our Journey Begins

Walking in Section A near the Greek Revival style rostrum during one of our first visits to the cemetery, we found a large headstone listing the names of five Army fliers. Under the names, ranks, birth dates and birth places of the fliers, an inscription reveals, “Died in plane crash WWII April 29 1942.”  At the time, we were writing a post about the group memorials at the cemetery, but we didn’t include this one.

On a return visit, working on a post about decorated veterans and notable figures, we were seeking the Section A burial locations of Lt. Col. Wilford Phelps and Col. Blake Van Leer. We spotted the fliers’ headstone again. Once more, we were intrigued, but it didn’t work with the focus of our article.

As this Memorial Day approached, we remembered that mysterious headstone with its cryptic inscription. Now seemed the perfect opportunity to honor the memories of the fliers by researching and telling their story. But as we explored the story and the circumstance of their deaths, we’re ended up left with a few mysteries that we’re still unable to explain.

The Importance of Air Power

In the early days of World War II, the US rushed desperately to arm itself for a multi-front war. And with advances in aviation since the end of World War 1, military strategy demanded a strong, expansive, and deadly air power capability that could strike almost anywhere, anytime.

That reality exploded on the US with the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor, as the Japanese used hundreds of carrier-based airplanes to cripple America’s Pacific Fleet. And the British also learned the necessity of a defensive air force as London faced deadly daily bombing raids by the German Lufwafte.

Thus, the US, sought thousands of new recruits to become members of its flying forces. Here in Marietta, a new bomber plant was started and finished quickly, producing Liberator bombers that would prove essential to the offensive bombing capabilities of the US and its allies.

Planes Everywhere

Across the country, airfields sprouted from cornfields, with runways pointing in virtually every direction. McDill Army Air Base near Tampa, Florida, became home to the four-engine Boeing B-17 heavy bombers and the twin-engine Martin B-26 Marauder medium bomber.  Combining the size, weight, engine power and quirk handling of these new war machines with inexperienced crews often led to disastrous consequences.

In fact, according to published reports in military history journals, the B-26 Marauder proved especially problematic. The plane earned its nicknames “Widowmaker” and “Flying Coffin” from the numerous training accidents. And while the B-17 eventually proved to be incredibly durable and powerful war birds, the new pilots often struggled to control the huge beasts. Reports in local newspapers noted frequent training flight crashes. They even quoted a new Army Air Force colloquialism for the frequent accidents at the base located on a peninsula south of Tampa: “One a day in Tampa Bay.”

The New Planes and Flyers Arrive

Each day brought new arrivals to McDill. On Feb. 6, 1942, a new Boeing B-17E, registration number 41-2566, was delivered to the airfield from the main Boeing assembly plant in Everett, Washington. (SOURCE: American Air Museum).

After marrying his college sweetheart on Feb. 20, 1942, in his native Oregon, Lt. Ernest W. Robertson and his new wife transferred to Tampa, FL. Robertson, a guard on the University of Oregon football team and its captain his senior year, had been assigned as a pilot to advanced bomber training at McDill. (SOURCE: Newspaper)

Robertson would join five others in a new bomber crew. Second Lieutenant Joseph S. Smith was a Texas native. Fellow officer Richard R. Carnevale joined the cockpit crew from Lockbourne, OH. Privates Marvin C. Brown and William C. Wimf hailed most recently from Michigan, though Wimf was an Arkansas native. The crew was rounded out by Private William C. Gearhart of Pennsylvania.

A similar situation existed at nearby Orlando Army Air Field, home to P-40 fighters. There, Second Lieut. Robert S. Boyce, of Chillicothe, OH, piloted one of the single-crew fighters that often were to escort and protect bombers on their deadly missions. An unmarried graduate of Washington and Lee University and the army’s advance flying school at Kelly field, TX,  he was transferred to Orlando Air Base from Key Field, Meridian, MS., on March 25, according to newspaper accounts.

Rigorous and Realistic Training

While the day-to-day routines of these specific B-17 and P-40 fliers are unknown, the training they received was well documented and consistently implemented. It’s likely that the crews had completed ground and simulator training before arriving at their Florida bases, an observation largely based on historical documents and archives from World War II training programs and manuals.

Once in Florida, the crews homed in on turning their assigned planes into precise weapons. They had graduated from simulators to real cockpits, often taking their first turns inside the powerful – and finicky – aircraft.

The bomber crews progressed from basic flying to more advanced skills such as formation flying, aerial gunnery, bombing runs, and navigational exercises. For the fighter pilots, training included aerobatics, dogfighting maneuvers, aerial gunnery, and tactical formations.

And, in anticipation of forming the combined bomber and fighter groups that would form aerial convoys to assigned target, the crews from different backgrounds, training and background would practice essential rendezvous and pursuit maneuvers.

A Fateful Event

As with many World War 2 domestic training crashes, details of whatever occurred on April 29, 1942, are sketchy. The emergency nature of war preparedness and need for military secrecy often combined to limit available information on catastrophic events. But here’s what we do know, according to accounts published in the Orlando Sentinal on April 30, 1942, and other subsequent press and official accounts.

“A multi-engined bomber from MacDill Field, Tampa, and a pursuit ship from Orlando Air Base yesterday collided in mid-air about nine miles west of Orlando and killed all occupants: four second lieutenants and three privates. Colonel Thomas S. Voss, commandant, Orlando Air Base, announced.

“Those listed as dead were Second Lieutenants Ernest W. Robertson, 25, Eugene, Ore., who leaves his widow, Virginia, at Tampa; Joseph S. Smith, Yoakum, Texas; and Richard R. Carnevale, Columbus, Ohio; three privates, M.C. Brown, 2136 Antoinette Avenue, Detroit, Mich.; L.A. Gerhart, Wernersville, Pa.; and (William) E. Wimf, Holland, Mich., all aboard the bomber; and Second Lieutenant Robert S. Boyce, 23, son of Mr. and Mrs. Howard Boyce of Chillicothe, Ohio, who piloted the pursuit plane.

“Colonel Voss immediately named a board of inquiry into the crash composed of Major W.E. Baker and Captains Griffin Davis and W.R. Yancey.

“The bomber, following the crash, plunged into the middle of an orange grove at the United States Department of Agriculture Sub-Tropical Fruit Research Station just off the Hiawassee Road.

“The pursuit plane crashed near Hoequist Field, two miles away, about six miles south of Orlando. Both planes burned.

The Gruesome Aftermath

The fact that the planes collided in midair, crashed and then burned led to gruesome realities for those who were flying and those who worked on the recovery. For those of us who have covered or worked at air crash scenes, the tragic outcome and horrible sights are among memories we hope to erase, but that never go away.

The remains of Lieut. Robert S. Boyce, 23, of Chillicothe, Ohio, were recovered individually. His remains were sent to his family in Ohio, and he was buried at Mount Moriah Cemetery, Withamsville, Clermont County, Ohio.

According to archived records of the Carey Hand Funeral Home in Orlando, FL, the fragmented remains of the bomber crew arrived there on April 29. The remains were cremated together on Sunday, May 3, then placed in one box as the funeral home awaited further instructions from the Army. The records indicate the Army paid $1,500 for one coffin, and all handling and arrangements for the deceased bomber crew were approved by Capt. Frank A. Perri of the Army Medical Corps.

Mystery at Marietta and Beyond

As we mentioned when we discovered the memorial to the bomber crew at Marietta National Cemetery, it includes a cryptic epitaph and the names of five Army fliers. The name of 2^nd Lt. Richard R. Carnevale doesn’t appear on the Marietta Memorial. Instead, there is a headstone for Carnevale at Saint Joseph Cemetery in Lockbourne, OH.

But the funeral records indicate the bomber crew was cremated together and their remains placed in one coffin. So, who actually is buried at Marietta National Cemetery?

Then, there’s confusion about the actual type of plane in which the bomber crew flew and died.

The newspaper accounts reference only that it was a “multi-engined bomber from McDill Field,” and doesn’t reference the specific type of plane. A listing in the database of the Aviation Safety Network indicates that a B-17E Flying Fortress with registration 41-2566 crashed on April 29, 1942, just west of Orlando. And records of the American Air Museum list a B-17 registration listing for 41-2566. But the heavy, long-range, deadly-armed B-17s usually flew with a crew of 10, required for manning all the guns around the airship.

The other primary multi-engined bomber assigned to McDill in 1942 was the B-26 Marauder. A lighter and shorter-range aircraft, it flew with a crew of six. Thus, with six crew members killed in the April 29 crash, which plane were they flying?

Likely Answers from Observations

After more research, we believe we’ve resolved – if not formerly solved – those two remaining mysteries.

Most likely, the remains of all six bomber crew members are interred at Marietta National Cemetery at plots A, 945-B-C. Since the funeral home recorded that all remains were placed in one box after cremation, it would have been impossible to bury the remains of 2^nd Lt. Richard Carnevale in Ohio and five others at Marietta.

Instead, the memorial to Lt. Carnevale in Ohio likely is a cenotaph, or an empty grave and marker memorializing a missing or lost person. Carnevale’s Ohio grave marker appears to be standard issue for the time for US Army veterans, a benefit offered to families of veterans then and now through the US Department of Veteran’s Affairs. It’s also likely that, if the Carnevale family ordered a separate headstone for a memorial in Ohio, Department of Veteran’s Affairs regulations prohibited his listing on a second grave marker in Marietta.

As to the plane in which the bomber crew flew, we believe it mostly likely was a B-17E. We found two database references to the registration number and reports of a crash, but one was incomplete and the other included an incorrect date and the incorrect name of the fighter pilot. Still, all the other information matches the crash reports. We could find no specific references to a B-26 Marauder crash near Orlando. Instead, we think the 10-crew B-17E flew that day without some of its gunners. Whether gunners were assigned and left off the flight or – more likely – a full crew had not yet been assigned, we can’t ascertain fully.

Our Growing Series on Marietta National Cemetery

Since we live nearby, we frequently walk the pathways through Marietta National Cemetery. We’re often intrigued by what we find, and develop new articles. You can find all our posts about Marietta National Cemetery and the heroes resting in its hills by clicking here.

“Valiant leadership, indomitable fighting spirit and resolute determination“

At the highest point in Marietta National Cemetery flies an American flag and the POW/MIA flag commemorating those who never returned home from their service to our country.

And in the shadow of the flags, you’ll find a standard white headstone with the name of Marine Corporal Lee Hugh Phillips, recipient of our nation’s highest military honor and one of the men who never returned home from war.

Phillips was awarded the Medal of Honor for his brave actions on November 4, 1950, in Korea. Phillips miraculously survived the battle for which he was awarded the Medal of Honor. But he was killed in action just three weeks later, on November 27, 1950, while fighting at the Chosin Reservoir, North Korea. His remains were not recovered. His Medal of Honor was presented to his mother at a Pentagon ceremony in March 1954.

Thus, Phillips, a native of Stockbridge, GA, is commemorated with a cenotaph — an empty grave and monument erected in honor of a person whose remains are lost — in Section MB, near the flag that flies over the hallowed grounds.

Each Medal of Honor award is accompanied by an official citation which describes the actions of the medal recipient. Phillips’ citation reads like a superhero movie script, except that it’s fact. Rather than describe it, here’s the citation as published by the National Medal of Honor Museum:

CITATION

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty while serving as a squad leader of Company E, in action against enemy aggressor forces. Assuming the point position in the attack against a strongly defended and well-entrenched numerically superior enemy force occupying a vital hill position which had been unsuccessfully assaulted on 5 separate occasions by units of the Marine Corps and other friendly forces, Cpl. Phillips fearlessly led his men in a bayonet charge up the precipitous slope under a deadly hail of hostile mortar, small-arms, and machine gun fire.

“Quickly rallying his squad when it was pinned down by a heavy and accurate mortar barrage, he continued to lead his men through the bombarded area and, although only 5 members were left in the casualty ridden unit, gained the military crest of the hill where he was immediately subjected to an enemy counterattack.

“Although greatly outnumbered by an estimated enemy squad, Cpl. Phillips boldly engaged the hostile force with handgrenades and rifle fire and, exhorting his gallant group of marines to follow him, stormed forward to completely overwhelm the enemy.

“With only 3 men now left in his squad, he proceeded to spearhead an assault on the last remaining strongpoint which was defended by 4 of the enemy on a rocky and almost inaccessible portion of the hill position.

“Using 1 hand to climb up the extremely hazardous precipice, he hurled grenades with the other and, with 2 remaining comrades, succeeded in annihilating the pocket of resistance and in consolidating the position.

“Immediately subjected to a sharp counterattack by an estimated enemy squad, he skillfully directed the fire of his men and employed his own weapon with deadly effectiveness to repulse the numerically superior hostile force.

“By his valiant leadership, indomitable fighting spirit and resolute determination in the face of heavy odds, Cpl. Phillips served to inspire all who observed him and was directly responsible for the destruction of the enemy stronghold. His great personal valor reflects the highest credit upon himself and enhances and sustains the finest traditions of the U.S. Naval Service.”

(Signed) Dwight D. Eisenhower, President of the United States

Additional Honors

In addition to receiving the Medal of Honor, Phillips was bestowed with Purple Heart, Combat Action Ribbon,Navy & Marine Corps Presidential Unit Citation with 2 Bronze Stars, National Defense Service Medal, Korean Service Medal with 2 Bronze Stars and the United Nations Service Medal.

Our Growing Series on Marietta National Cemetery

Since we live nearby, we frequently walk the pathways through Marietta National Cemetery. We’re often intrigued by what we find, and develop new articles. You can find all our posts about Marietta National Cemetery and the heroes resting in its hills by clicking here.

Though she likely never served in the US military, Emma Stephenson was laid to rest at Marietta National Cemetery, a symbol of thanks and in commemoration of the comfort she provided to injured and dying soldiers.

Little is known about how the formerly enslaved woman came to serve as a heroic nurse in a Union Army hospital near Marietta, GA. And like countless enslaved persons, even less is known about her birth, early years and her path to becoming a free woman of color. But what we can deduce from stories like hers and learn from the few facts available is that Emma Stephenson definitely earned her final resting place in a US national cemetery among those for whom she cared.

Conflicting Records

Conflicting accounts indicate that Stephenson likely was born into slavery in either Kentucky or Tennessee. She likely was freed as a result of Civil War actions, when local occupation by Union troops resulted in the freeing of enslaved workers from the estates of their Southern masters.

A National Park Service biography indicates that she voluntarily served as a nurse with the U.S. 17th Army Corps, part of General William T. Sherman’s Army of the Cumberland which fought throughout the South. The NPS biography also indicates she may have been born and enslaved originally in Kentucky.

Other accounts suggest she was born and enslaved in Tennessee, then volunteered as a nurse when freed, accompanying the 44th US Colored Infantry as part of Sherman’s forces. Civil War Union Army records and battlefield accounts from the NPS and other sources indicate that the 44th US Colored Infantry participated in Sherman’s Atlanta Campaign and March to the Sea.

“We have a slave woman who cares for us on this floor. She has kindness and treats us with tender care.”

A film shown at Kennesaw Mountain National Battlefield Park recalls Stephenson’s recorded service as a nurse for the Union Army. A PBS miniseries, Civil War: Untold Story also includes her story.

Battle of Kennesaw Mountain

At the center of Emma Stephenson’s known story sits the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain, which took place in June 1864. After several frontal attacks by the Union Army on entrenched Confederate positions, the Confederate Army withdrew to the Southern bank of the Chattahoochee River.

With more than 3,000 Union soldiers dead, wounded or missing, the Union Army established a hospital at the Masonic Lodge in Marietta for the Union wounded. It’s here that Emma Stephenson’s service was recorded. And it’s also here where she would die, her life taken by a camp and hospital disease outbreak less than one month after the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain.

Letters of Union soldiers to their families back home provide primary sources about Emma Stephenson’s service in the hospital. Those letters often refer to her as the “slave nurse,” although she was a free woman. Often according to journals of the time, the hospital nurses wrote the letters on behalf of the injured soldiers. The family of Asa Soper, an injured soldier from the 30th Illinois, received one of those letters.

His letters states: “”Mother, I take my pen in hand to write you a few lines. I hope you are well. I am in a building and dry. The few nurses here work all day and night. We have a slave woman who cares for us on this floor. She has kindness and treats us with tender care. But my only hope is to come home to you.”

Nursing in the Civil War wasn’t the medical profession we know today. Most nurses came to the role with no medical training. Instead, they offered traditional caregiving roles that deemed appropriate extensions of their domestic duties at home.  But the scale of the war and number of injuries eventually resulted in nurses providing more medical support — usually out of necessity and often over the objection of doctors. Though they didn’t assist in surgery, nurses witnessed and treated graphic wounds and amputations that were emotionally draining. Letters and articles of the time show that the work was both physically and mentally taxing, often requiring long hours in overwhelmed facilities.

Providing Care

And the hospital conditions were horrible. Often using buildings that had survived or were damaged by battles and skirmishes, hospitals occupied hotels, commercial buildings and even homes. According to the National Museum of Civil War Medicine, the physical arrangements were chaotic.

Makeshift beds—often just straw or blankets on the floor—were packed closely together to accommodate the wounded soldiers. Surgeons worked at rudimentary operating tables, frequently simple wooden planks set on barrels or crates. Sanitation posed a significant issue; blood-soaked bandages, amputated limbs, and other medical waste often littered the ground nearby, contributing to a pervasive stench and the spread of infections. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, blood, and antiseptics like chloroform and ether, mixed with the nauseating odor of gangrene and other infections. Patients groaned and screamed in pain as surgeons performed amputations and other procedures, often without adequate anesthesia.

Rows of wounded men with missing limbs or severe injuries awaited surgery or suffered in agony following procedures. The constant activity of doctors, nurses, and orderlies rushing between patients added to the sense of urgency and despair.

Thus, without medical training and ill-equipped for the widening scope of their roles, Civil War nurses evolved in their roles or left “their soldiers” behind. Emma Stephenson stuck to her commitment, providing care and comfort.

A Hero’s Reward

After her death in the Union camp on July 16, 1864, from an unknown disease, Stephenson was buried at the Army Corps Hospital. With Marietta National Cemetery established in 1866 as the final resting place for US Army soldiers, Emma Stephenson’s remains were reinterred there. Having earned a spot in the cemetery for her care and service, Stephenson lies among those for who she gave her life.

Emma Stephenson is buried at Section F, Plot 4841, in Marietta National Cemetery. Also buried in that section are identified members of the US Colored Infantry, as well as unknown members of the unit.

Our Growing Series on Marietta National Cemetery

Since we live nearby, we frequently walk the pathways through Marietta National Cemetery. We’re often intrigued by what we find, and develop new articles. You can find all our posts about Marietta National Cemetery and the heroes resting in its hills by clicking here.

One of Georgia’s most successful football coaches was a field general on the gridiron, nearly doubling the team’s all-time victories and coaching the school’s first All-American. And as a Captain in the US Army on the French battlefields of World War 1, he was awarded the country’s second highest miliary honor for bravery and leadership.

(In the 1910 team photo above, Cunningham is in the first row to the far right, wearing a sweater with a large V.)

The rolling hills of Marietta National Cemetery are the final resting place of more than 15,000 American soldiers and their family members. Each headstone hides stories of how brave men and women served to protect our freedoms. And some made the ultimate sacrifice in their service. As Memorial Day approaches, we’ll be sharing stories of these heroes in the Marietta hills.

Ask any Bulldog fan to name the top coaches to lead the University of Georgia football team, and three names come rapid fire: Kirby Smart, Vince Dooley and Mark Richt. And indeed, those three coaches won the most games and have the highest winning percentages during their coaching tenures.

But if you’re looking for a former Georgia head coach who was a football field general and a decorated hero on the battlefields during war, that distinction goes to Colonel William A. Cunningham. He coached the Bulldogs for eight seasons over a 10 year span between 1910 and 1919. During his tenure, Cunningham’s Bulldogs won 43 games, nearly doubling the total wins UGA had achieved in its first 18 seasons. And his all-time winning percentage of 68% puts him in fifth place among Georgia coaches who coached at least 10 games – and only one place behind the legendary Vince Dooley.

Cunningham was hired by Georgia Athletic Director Steadman Sanford after Sanford watched Cunningham coach his Gordon Military Institute baseball team to an 11-0 victory on a visit to UGA. Published reports indicate that after a brief conversation, Sanford offered Cunningham a $1,350 contract on the spot.

Cunningham recruited one of his GMI baseball players to join him at Georgia. That baseball player, Bob McWhorter, became Georgia’s first football All-American in 1913.

College football then wasn’t the multi-million dollar, full-time enterprise it is today. So when he wasn’t coaching UGA football, Cunningham attended Georgia’s law school and served as faculty advisor to the Delta Chapter of the Sigma Chi fraternity.

Oh, and as if that wasn’t enough, Cunningham served as Georgia’s head basketball coach during the 1910–1911 season and again from 1916–1917, compiling a 62% winning percentage.

According to published accounts, Cunningham’s Bulldogs were fierce competitors and among the top teams in the region. But compared to the determination and bravery of their coach, the Bulldogs were mere pups playing together on a peaceful field.

In 1917 and 1918, University of Georgia and many other colleges suspended their sports programs as World War I required young men to serve their countries on a foreign battlefield. Although he was over 30 years old and not subject to being drafted, Coach Cunningham joined the US Army with his football players as new recruits headed to France.

Cunningham served with 321st Machine-Gun Battalion, 82d Division, A.E.F., near Sommerance, France, participating in battles of the Meuse-Argonne offensive. Rain dampened the battlefields in early October. German bombs fell heavily on the US and Allied positions across the front as the Germans fought fiercely to stem the slowly advancing Allied offensive which had broken out of the trench war stalemate.

On Oct. 12, 1918 – on a day when Cunningham likely would have been coaching his team on Georgia’s new Sanford Field – Captain Cunningham led his unit in an attack on the German lines. Painfully wounded in the face by shrapnel when his battalion was seriously engaged in battle, Cunningham continued leading his men through the heavy shell fire.

For his outstanding service, Cunningham was awarded the Army Distinguished Service Cross, the nation’s second highest military honor. The citation lauded Cunningham for his efforts “leading his men with skill and inspiring them with courage” despite his serious head wounds. He also was inducted posthumously into the 82nd Airborne Division Hall of Fame.

After the war, Cunningham returned to his coaching position at Georgia and led the Bulldogs on another winning campaign in the 1919 season. He left UGA after the 1919 season having compiled a final football record of 43–18–9.

Rejoining the US Army, Cunningham also served during World War 2. He ended his Army career with the rank of colonel. Cunningham later served as the professor of military studies at Clemson University from 1943 to 1946.

Colonel Cunningham is buried at Marietta National Cemetery at gravesite Q 181-C