Historical Notes: Ace’s Legacy

Pilot Norman L. Widen, his eyes corked black to cut glare, swung his twin-engined P-38 sharply over a German-held airfield in Tunis, put an Me 109 in his gunsight and blasted away. Just as the 109 coughed black smoke, a sudden clatter of shells peppered Widen’s armor plate from behind, clipped his helmet and set his own plane afire. Quickly, Widen pulled back on his throttles and bailed out. As he drifted toward the ground, Widen saw his assailant: another Me 109 was circling him menacingly. Mindful of stories that Nazis had been known to finish off parachuting pilots, Widen muttered to himself (as he later wrote in his diary): “I hope this guy used to go to Sunday school.”

“Cy” Widen had no need to fear on that December day in 1942. The Nazi pilot did not harm him, instead set down his 109 and went over to meet Widen, who had landed near the airfield. The Nazi was a cordial fellow named Anton (“Toni”) Hafner, fated to become Germany’s ninth-ranking World War II ace with 204 planes to his credit. The two spoke through an interpreter for a few minutes in the glaring Tunisian sun. They shook hands, posed for pictures. When Hafner admired Widen’s wings, the American gave them to him, and his Colt pistol and his P-38’s identification tag as well. As they parted, Widen invited Hafner to visit him in Philadelphia after the war. It was a scene worthy of Richthofen himself, or Hell’s Angels.

Last week Cy Widen, now 43, an Air Force major and a training officer for several fighter squadrons at Malmstrom A.F.B. in Great Falls, Mont., leafed through his diary to stir that 18-year-old memory. The leafing was prompted by the news of a strange sequel. From a West German soldier named Alfons Hafner came word of a promise that he had made to his brother Toni before the ace died during the war: Alfons would find the American pilot and give him some remembrance of that brief encounter in Tunisia. Ace Toni did not know the American’s name but had passed along a photo to Alfons. Alfons, in turn, passed it along to West German military author ities and it ultimately wound up in Stars and Stripes and Air Force Times. In Montana, Widen saw the picture, read of the search that Alfons had begun three years ago and guessed that he was the man. His legacy: Toni Hafner’s German Gold Cross, his wings, and a portrait of the ace painted by Alfons.