Uncle Al
Lost But Not Forgotten
Although the crew of Hell's Wench tragically perished on that fateful morning of August 1st, 1943, their deaths would not be officially declared until many years later, following the end of the war. Amidst the chaos of battle over Ploesti, Romania, and the subsequent efforts of Romanian authorities to clean up the aftermath, identifying the remains of the lost soldiers proved to be an extraordinary challenge. The Romanian government reported that they had recovered and buried 216 American soldiers, yet only 27 of them were identifiable.
Among those left unidentified was the then 27-year-old bombardier, and my great-great uncle, Alfred W. Pezzella, a member of the Hell’s Wench crew whose memory and sacrifice lingered on in the hearts and minds of his family for generations.
His story, like that of countless other airmen who participated in the Second World War, embodies the courage and selflessness that define the greatest generation. I intend to tell their story, and the story of Operation TIDAL WAVE, and hopefully through this effort, uphold their legacy, inspiring us to honor their memory and strive for a future worthy of their sacrifice.
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I never knew Alfred Pezzella, but as a young boy growing up in an Italian American family, I heard stories of Alfred from my grandmother. I remember when I was only around 12 years old, I stood in the dining room of my grandparents’ house surveying the black and white photos framed on the side table pushed against the window. I recognized the faces well enough. My grandfather was there, although a younger version of him and my grandmother too, also much younger than she was at the time. Still, I could make out their features well enough. Glancing down the table, I saw one photo of my mother and her siblings; there were 6 of them in total, all posing nicely for the picture. But one photo stood out to me, a photo of someone I didn’t recognize: a young man smiling in his army uniform.
I questioned my mother about who this unfamiliar face was. She told me that he was her great uncle Al, and that he went missing while flying in World War II. I was immediately intrigued because, to my young mind, this sounded like a story out of a video game or a book. I was also unaware at the time that any of my close relatives fought in World War II.
The realization that a beloved relative had embarked on a perilous journey, never to return, sent shivers down my spine. It was as if I had uncovered a hidden chapter in our family saga. A story not unlike that of Amelia Earhart’s or something you’d hear on the History Channel regarding the Bermuda Triangle.
My grandmother, Betty, was one of my only direct relatives that knew Alfred when he was alive, albeit only for a few years when she was just a young girl. Still, she would always describe how great his sense of humor was and how much fun he was as an uncle. It is hard to believe how my older relatives, like my grandmother, had so many close relationships with people I could never meet. There were entire generations removed from me, yet they were still family to the people I felt so close to now. In a way, that thought has brought Alfred closer to me.
As I stared at Alfred, smiling back at me in the photograph, I couldn't help but wonder what his story was, or why he had never been found. I didn’t know it at the time, but there were many stories like Alfred’s. Lost soldiers whose remains had never been found and whose families lived on without any sort of fitting closure. This kind of immense loss was neither something I could comprehend at that young age, nor something the videogames or movies I enjoyed could accurately convey.
Now years later, and with more information at my disposal, I hope to shed light on these untold stories that lie buried within the confines of history. How many unsung heroes, like Alfred, had traversed the currents of war, their sacrifices left unnoticed by the average person, yet deeply rooted in the world we live in today? I intend to honor the legacy of Alfred and all of those who fought in World War II, many of which gave their lives for their country and their loved ones. Although these echoes of the past may fade with each passing generation, the legacy of those who came before us endures, serving as a timeless reminder of the courage, resilience, and sacrifice that define the human spirit.
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Alfred was beloved by his family, and his loss effected them for generations. Betty, my grandmother, would often tell stories of Alfred and how he took her flying when she was younger. His loss effected her even at that young age and well into her adulthood, and his memory has survived for over 80 years in part thanks to her effort.