#Harry C. Edwards

[random-brushstrokes]

Harry C. Edwards - Handsome Morning -- A Dakota (1921)

Harry C. Edwards’s striking studio portrait of Handsome Morning—a woman the artist identifies as Dakota Sioux—reflects a turn-of-the-century fascination with romanticized subjects in costume. Handsome Morning’s regalia consists of a fringed dress with beaded yoke, a tubular bone-bead necklace, beaded moccasins, and a buffalo-hide robe. It is likely that she was styled and posed according to conventional portrayals of Native American people made popular by the theatricalized portraits of photographer Edward S. Curtis, which included the mixing of tribal dress and ornamentation, and the use of stoic expressions and gestures.

Akin to the 1880 U.S. government–commissioned Crow Peace Delegation portraits, which were later appropriated and annotated by contemporary artist Wendy Red Star. Edwards’s use of his sitter’s name in the title signaled authenticity to viewers. Artists at the time were aware of the U.S. government’s long-standing exploitation of, and open assault on, the lives and lands of Native people. Edwards was likely motivated by an interest in his subject as a curiosity rather than by an active regard for her community. (source)

[uwmspeccoll]

Publishers’ Binding Thursday

I found this book while browsing our stacks on a hunt for a nice publishers’ binding, and the spine immediately caught my eye. The book is Prue and I by American author, public speaker, and abolitionist George William Curtis (1824-1892). Published in 1899 by Thomas Y. Crowell & Co. in New York and Boston, the book features color illustrations signed by Harry C. Edwards (1868-1922) and an added title page designed by Theodore Brown Hapgood (1871-1938). It’s possible that the cover is also designed by T.B. Hapgood, though it does not bear his initials. 

The cover is described thusly in our catalog: “Grayish olive green diagonal fine rib cloth, ornate gilt iris and leaf design with matte gold fleur-de-lis surrounding gilt lettering, all within gilt double rule border, motif repeated on spine.” I would argue that the cloth is not “grayish” at all, but I think that a pretty neat description of this binding.

I was tickled by some of the passages I read upon opening the book (ex: “Prue often says [xyz]. She is right, as usual.”) and by the dedication: “To Mrs. Henry W. Longfellow in memory of the happy hours at our castles in Spain.” How many castles do you have? 

View more Publishers’ Binding Thursday posts.

-- Alice, Special Collections Department Manager

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 7: The Boys Back Home

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Chap. Synopsis: What will happen when some of Easy Company's most valuable soldiers disappear?

Words: 2,135

Find the fic's navigation page here !!

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Author's note: Hey everyone! Apologies for the delay with the chapter lol 🫠 This chapter is the point of view of the men in Bastogne!! Also, because this is my fanfiction and I can do whatever I want, there will be some soldiers who somehow survived their demise in previous episodes (Miller? Dukeman? PERHAPS) Anywho, thank you as always for reading and be on the lookout for Chapter 8! 🥰

"Luz!" Carwood cried over the last shell to drop. He watched the radioman dive into the foxhole - George met the same fate as the nine others who dropped into that hole, none of them came out. Lipton was astonished. At most, a foxhole could fit three of the men comfortably, perhaps four if needed. But ten men in one? Lipton should have seen a dog pile of olive drab stretching above the opening. Instead, he saw an empty hole in the ground. The First Sergeant blinked and rubbed his eyes, making sure what he saw was indeed reality. The foxhole stayed empty when he opened his eyes.

Lipton sprinted from where he was taking cover, desperately searching for Lieutenant Dike. He knew that Dike was the least preferable choice, especially in a situation like this, but the officers Lipton would have preferred to ask for help had disappeared. After an agonizing search mission, Lipton finally found the Lieutenant - Dike was absentmindedly strolling along, looking at the trees around him with a glassy, thousand-yard stare. “Lieutenant Dike!” Lipton called out, scrambling over tree roots and broken branches. Dike snapped back to reality, his posture automatically improving when he saw First Sergeant Lipton.

“What is it, First Sergeant?” Dike asked, trying to be authoritative. The yawn that followed his words worked against him. Carwood began to speak, but his words were caught in his throat… how in the world was he going to tell the lieutenant what just happened?

“Sir… we um…” Lipton tried to force the words out of his mouth.

“Spit it out, First Sergeant Lipton!” Dike ordered, irritation evident in his voice. Lipton paused, taking a breath before responding to the officer.

“Sir… several men are gone…”

“First Sergeant, this is war, we're going to have casualties every day.”

“Not like that sir, I mean… they've disappeared…”

Dike stared blankly at the NCO, wondering if he heard him right.

“Where did they go, Carwood?” Hearing Dike use his first name gave Lipton a feeling he could only describe as ick, but nevertheless, he continued.

“Sir, I saw ten men go into a foxhole, but when I reached them, the foxhole was empty.”

“And you’re sure you went to the right foxhole?” Lipton had to pause and take a breath before answering.

“Yes, sir.” In a flurry of urgency that Lipton had never seen from Dike before, the lieutenant had rounded up Compton, Peacock, Shames, Foley, and Welsh, as well as radioed to Colonel Sink. Lipton hastily repeated his experience to the officers, who were just as hesitant to believe Lipton as Dike was. 

“So they’re just… gone?” Harry asked, still skeptical.

“I wish I had more information for you sir, but all I saw was the men go into the foxhole and not come out,” Carwood replied, defeat evident in his voice.

“Shit…” Welsh muttered under his breath. The Irishman stared at the ground in front of him, wondering how he let two of his closest friends just disappear.

“So who all are we missing?” Buck interjected. He stood with his arms crossed, instinctively taking command of the conversation.

“Captains Winters and Nixon, Lieutenant Speirs, and then Roe, Luz, Liebgott, Guarnere, Toye, Malarkey, and Randleman,” the NCO listed off the men he saw disappear, and prayed he would see again.

What Lipton did not see was Skip Muck quickly scrambling back to his foxhole. He had originally made his way to CP to ask Captain Winters a question, but when he overheard the discussion between Lipton and the officers, panic consumed the soldier’s thoughts. Muck all but fell into Penkala’s foxhole, unaware that he inadvertently elbowed his best friend in the face.

“HEY! What the fuck!?” Penkala yelped in surprise, his hands shooting to his cheek.

“Keep it down, Penk! I gotta tell you something,” Muck hushed the soldier, looking to make sure no one else was around. “I just heard Lipton telling Buck that we lost a bunch of men.”

“Like, to a sniper?”

“No, like they fucking disappeared.” Alex rolled his eyes, figuring Skip was just up to his usual mischief.

“Yeah, and I’m marrying Rita Hayworth.”

“Penk, I’m serious. Winters, Nixon, and a few others are gone and they have no fucking idea where they went.”

“Wait, what’d you say?” Muck and Penkala looked up to see that Shifty Powers had joined them in their foxhole. The rifleman looked at his two friends with shock and concern - how could the soldiers just disappear, especially vital officers like Winters and Nixon?

“He said we’re missing half the fucking company!” Penkala’s voice raised again, becoming more distressed by the minute.

“I said keep it down, you ass-hat!” Skip punctuated his interjection with a sharp whack to the back of Penkala’s head. “Look, we all know Dike isn’t gonna do shit. When Colonel Sink gets here, we need to back Lipton up and make sure Sink knows what’s happening.”

“I can go round up some of the other NCOs and tell them,” Shifty offered, gathering up his rifle to go find the rest of Easy Company’s leaders.

“Alright, we’ll come find you once Sink gets here,” Penkala replied before Shifty set off on his solo mission. Before long, the Virginian had gathered up Alley, Christianson, Grant, Martin, McClung, Perconte, Sisk, Talbert, Popeye, and Smokey Gordon. Of course, the trio of Hashey, Garcia, and Miller wanted to tag along as well - even if they did not have a leadership role, they wanted to help their company however they could.

“I really hope Bull’s okay…” Hashey muttered to no one in particular, crossing his arms to conserve the little warmth he had. “First he went missing in Holland, now we lose him in Bastogne…”

“Yeah, we need to keep a leash on him or something!” Miller snickered to his friends before Babe Heffron bumbled up to the group. The redhead resembled a baby horse learning to gallop as he jumped and weaved past tree roots and foxholes making his way to the group of soldiers.

“The fuck is this I hear about Gaurnere missing!?” Babe’s respirations were loud and labored as he attempted to catch his breath. Before anyone could respond, Lipton came across the group of soldiers all congregated near CP.

“Hey fellas, everyone doing all right?” Carwood asked nervously - he loved his men, but he knew they were up to no good if too many were in one place without a good reason.

“We heard about the men going missing,” Smokey replied, Mississippi accent thick in his words.

“We want to help, Lip, however we can,” Floyd Talbert added. He nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other, Smokey glancing a look of concern at his best friend. 

Lipton was about to express his gratitude to his company before Colonel Sink’s Jeep was seen pulling up beside the rest of the group. Lipton quickly went to grab the company’s officers as Sink nodded in thanks to his driver and stepped out of the car. With a loud, abrupt command to “Ten-Hut!” from Buck Compton, the gathered men snapped to attention and saluted the colonel, who offered a gentle salute in return.

“At ease men,” Sink instructed before turning to the officers, “I knew it was bad when I was getting a call from Dike.”

Lipton and Welsh needed to bite their cheeks to hide their amused smiles. “We’re not sure what to do, sir, or if anything can be done…” Buck replied to the colonel before taking a step back - the blonde gestured for Lipton to step up, an instruction to inform Sink of their predicament.

“Carwood, tell me exactly what you saw.” The rest of the gathered men leaned in as Sink spoke, anxious to understand what was happening.

“Ten men went into a foxhole while we were getting shelled, sir, but the foxhole was completely empty when I went to check on them afterward. There was absolutely no trace of anyone being in that foxhole, sir, and now we can’t find any of the men I saw go in.”

The older man nodded in understanding, silently processing Lipton’s words. “Who all went in?” The NCO repeated the names from earlier, ending with Captains Winters and Nixon. Sink simply looked down at the snow. “And you have no idea where the hell any of them went…”

“No sir,” Lipton replied quietly.

The colonel simply let out a sigh and shook his head, “I’m sorry boys, but since it was during a shelling and they were last seen going into a foxhole, the higher-ups probably aren’t going to authorize a search party,” he sent a determined look to the men, “I’m going to do everything I can to push the request through, but I better not hear of anyone taking matters into their own hands.” Before getting back into his Jeep, Sink turned to Lieutenant Dike, or rather, where Dike should have been. “And where the hell is Dike?”

“We don’t know, sir, we looked for him before you arrived but didn’t find him,” Welsh chimed in. Sink rubbed his forehead in irritation before turning to Buck and Welsh.

“All right, I’m making this an official order. Lieutenant Compton, if Dike isn’t to be found and a decision needs to be made, your company comes to you. Harry, you’re second in command. You kids do what you think is right. You’re good soldiers with smart heads on your shoulders.” Sink nodded to the officers and saluted the men before getting back in his Jeep and driving back to Regimental HQ - the poor man put his head in his hands, his most trusted officers were gone without a trace, and there was virtually nothing he could do to help them.

As if on cue, Dike returned to the company, “What are we all standing around for? We have a line to protect!” Dike crescendoed his voice to try and be more authoritative, but his efforts fell flat. Eyes rolled and voices groaned as the gathered men all dispersed and returned to their assigned duties - well, all except for Babe, Talbert, Smokey, McClung, Shifty, Alley, Grant, and Popeye. As everyone was trying to leave, Smokey grabbed the sleeve of whoever he could.

“Y’all, this isn’t right, we need to do something,” the machine gunner pleaded in a hushed tone.

“You heard Sink, though, there’s no way they’re gonna authorize a search party,” Moe replied, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Popeye took a beat before he chimed in, “...why do we need to wait for authorization?”

“Because only a general can authorize a search party,” Talbert answered the Virginian - while he did not agree with the policy at all, he knew that there was no getting around it.

“But didn’t Sink say that he left Buck and Welsh in charge if Dike isn’t around? They’re not the type to snitch,” Grant offered to the conversation, scrunching his shoulders up for warmth like a turtle retreating into its shell.

“Hell, they might be happy to help out,” Gordon affirmed the NCO. The men looked around at each other with uncertainty - what if Dike found out? Or Peacock? To be honest, it was probably worse for the latter officer to discover the plot. Thomas Peacock tries his best to be a good captain, but these efforts cause him to be rather heavy-handed with the rules. If Peacock were to hear of the plot to find the missing soldiers, he would surely either tell his superior officers or try to stop the soldiers himself.

“What if we get caught?” Shifty asked nervously - while he wanted to help his friends, the poor boy was nervous to hatch a plot like this.

“We can’t just do nothin’! We all know they’d do the same if it were any of us out there!” The man from Philly interjected, earning Babe a smack on the head from Grant.

“Where would we even start?” McClung asked the group.

“Well, best thing to do would be to investigate the foxhole and see if there are any clues,” everyone turned in shock to see Lipton returning to them. “I needed something from CP, and then I noticed all of you still over here, I figured you were up to no good,” the first sergeant said with a smile, earning him a loving slap on the back from Grant and Johnny Martin. The rest of the afternoon was about to be spent brainstorming, at least until one of the men needed to take their turn watching the line.

All of the men felt nervous, but especially Babe. Guarnere is his best friend, it would be one thing if Babe knew that he was wounded, even killed, but not knowing what happened to Bill was eating away at Babe worse than anything he had ever felt before.

~~~~~

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 (coming soon!)

Taglist: @b00ks1ut , @blueberry-ovaries , @bucky32557038ww2 , @claudycod , @dontirrigateme , @easycompany123 , @emilee1421 , @executethyself35 , @hanniewinnix , @ithinkabouttzu , @jump-wings , @panzershrike-pretz , @stolen94 , @themysciraprincess , @xxluckystrike

Thank you so much as always for reading and stay tuned for Chapter 8! 😁

[eirinstiva]

The Adventure of the Final Problem: Edwards' Illustrations

While I'm still grieving and preparing myself to compare my edition in Spanish with the OG, I looked for more book illustrations.

This time I wanto to show Edwards' work for this story, a bit less known than Sidney's illustrations.

Harry Clay Edwards (1868-1922) was an American periodical illustrator and painter. Between 1894 and 1896, he did 27 illustrations for Arthur Conan Doyle's fictions in McClure's.

All the images are available here if you want to see them.

Holmes looks so tired D:

Is this Moriarty too handsome?

Mycroft! <3

Watson and the Italian priest

Holmes <3

Run!

This Moriarty looks like he could fight Holmes

And the moment of the duel...

THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTIIIIIING!!!!!! I love how Moriarty tries to use Holmes' clothes as a handle with his left hand on Sherlock collar while Holmes go directly to his neck and hair.

Sorry, but this but Moriarty fight like my classmates in primary school where was more important to mess your rival hair that leave bruises. Weird memories

[saints-who-never-existed]

Another ‘Little’ Parallel

There are two very specific instances, it strikes me on my millionth re-watch, where Lt. Little is holding a gun pointed squarely at Crozier and, with all the heart-rending parallels this show has to offer, I can’t bring myself to believe that this isn’t meant as one.

The first instance is in Episode Five. Crozier has been fully in the throes of his alcoholism throughout and has behaved abhorrently as a result. A man literally dies in the process of procuring him booze and he barely bats an eyelid at it. He lashes out at almost everyone around him - Fitzjames, Blanky, Silna, Goodsir, and Little too. And for his own part, Little not only has never looked more miserable and beaten down than he does in this episode, but he’s also never looked more full to the brim with impotent simmering rage. Yet when Crozier hands him the gun, Little hesitates for a long, still moment and when he finally grasps the gun he does so gingerly, taking it carefully by the handle, and dropping it onto the table the first chance he gets.

The second is in Episode Nine. Golding has betrayed them, and yet another man has just died for Crozier – poor Hartnell caught in the crossfire. Little is once again miserable, beaten-down, and angry but there’s no caution in him now, he’s jumpy and clearly panicking too – he has his finger on the trigger, he’s 100% ready to shoot in retaliation, even if it means his own death, and Crozier knows it. This is why he steps in front of the barrel before he coaxes the gun from Little’s hand - he knows with absolute certainty that the Lieutenant won’t fire on him.

There are so many similarities in these two scenes but so many differences too.

Both are about Crozier taking control of a situation, first of all, whether that be with regard to just himself and his drinking, or to the wider fate of the men. Both are about Crozier passing the responsibility, the burden of leadership onto Little. Both times Crozier is essentially stepping up and putting himself in danger – from the agonies of withdrawal, from a bullet. Both times see Little unsure and reluctant – first to take one gun, then to part with another.

I think one of the things that a gun in this scenario represents is the ability to determine one’s own fate and take control.

The first time we see Little after he takes the gun and de-facto leadership of Terror, it’s like night and day. He looks much better for one thing – clean, clear-eyed, fluffy-haired, and actually well put-together. But more importantly, he has control now, he’s finally able to get on with his job in the fullest sense, and I think we see even in that one small scene with Dundy and the benjo plan that he’s perfectly good at it. He strides into the room with ease and confidence, rousing the men with a clear authoritative command that is immediately obeyed. The men are as content as they can be and so is Little.

When the gun is taken from him (along with Crozier), Little looks much worse the next time we see him. Not only is he much more bedraggled and ill-looking, he’s more unsure and more beaten-down than ever. Again, he enters a space filled with his men, but things could not be more different this time. He’s shot in a way that makes him look much smaller and much lower down than the others, for one thing. And for another, his words aren’t met with obedience this time but with gentle yet grim, open defiance. He no longer has any real control over his own fate.

There’s likely even more to the two scenes that what I’ve described but I’ve made myself sad enough already writing as much as I have. I’d like to hear others’ thoughts on this though. 

[thebeautifulbook]

THE RIVER’S CHILDREN: AN IDYL OF THE MISSISSIPPI by Ruth McEnery Stuart (New York: Century, 1904) Publisher’’s binding. Illustrated by Harry C. Edwards.

source

[gatutor]

Maria Ouspenskaya-Harry Carey-C. Aubrey Smith "Dulce evocación" (Beyond tomorrow) 1940, de A. Edward Sutherland.

[whurnp]

Ned Works Too Hard

An indulgent little scenario only barely recognizant of canon. I just love this wet napkin of a man and want to see people being nice to him.  Crozier did not look up from the logbook at the entry of his First Lieutenant into the Great Room that evening. He knew he could always rely on Edward to deliver his daily report on the hour, steady and sure as clockwork.

Had he glanced up from his dotting of I’s, however, he might have spied the Lieutenant clatter his broad shoulder against the door jamb with uncharacteristic clumsiness as he entered. Had he broken himself away from the crossing of T’s, Crozier may have noted too the change in gait, the familiar ice-crunching stomp now an unsteady shuffle across the deck.

“Lieutenant?” Crozier queried amiably enough in greeting, still absorbed in the page before him.

“Sir…?” came the uncertain reply.

Now that was a change Crozier could not help but note. Gone the usual deep, warm burr and in its place a faltering, groggy croak. At the sound, he finally whipped his head up to behold the source and found himself shocked to silence.

First Lieutenant Edward Little looked, quite simply, dead on his feet.

Though the deck beneath him was ice-bound and still, he swayed, punch-drunk, as if in the wildest of storms, trembling uncontrollably in every long burly limb. His handsome face was transparently pale, dark hair utterly dishevelled and hanging over his furrowed brow in a manner that would be rakish and rather dashing on any other day but could not be less so now, stuck as it was to his pallid cheeks in odd little wisps that only rendered him boyish and intensely vulnerable. It was Edward’s eyes, however, by which Crozier found himself struck most. Dark, soft, and doe-ish, they were usually the young man’s finest feature, but they were changed now, wide yet barely focused, dull yet darting wildly in barely suppressed delirium and panic.

“Ned…?” It was Crozier’s turn now to croak in bewilderment and uncertainty.

Little’s dark glassy eyes flitted momentarily to the Captain’s horrified face though in truth he gazed not at Crozier but straight deliriously through him. “I’m… I’m sorry, sir…” he mumbled in an impossibly small and childlike voice before, without warning, his eyes rolled right up to the whites, his knees buckled beneath him, and he collapsed rather unceremoniously to the cold deck with a resounding thud and a flurry of papers.

Crozier was around his desk and on his knees before he even realised he’d moved, had tenderly brushed a great lock of unruly hair from Edward’s brow and reached to loosen the stock at the young man’s pale throat without conscious thought. He did not, in fact, even realise that he had hollered hoarsely for Jopson until the Steward appeared dutifully in the doorway, only to reel back himself in shock at the sight of the Lieutenant on the deck, loose-limbed and splayed out like a string-cut marionette.

“Fetch Dr McDonald please, Thomas.” Crozier instructed, managing to sound calmer than he felt, and watched momentarily as the young Steward took off down the passageway at a sprint before bringing his gaze downward again.

Gently, though not without a little effort to strain against the unconscious dead weight of the well-built man, Crozier lifted the Lieutenant’s tousled head up into his own lap. Edward did not appear to have suffered any grievous injury to Crozier’s eye and his great relief. His breathing was steady, although perhaps a little shallow and ragged, and as the Captain worked under layer upon layer of clothing to finally press his hand to the bare, warm, clammy flesh of Edward’s broad chest, he was relieved further still to feel the pounding of a heartbeat beneath his calloused palm.

Little did not stir an inch at the touch of the cold, rough hand but slumbered on, long dark eyelashes resting ever-so-lightly on ashen cheeks, handsome face as pale and exquisitely fragile as the finest porcelain. But for the faint furrow remaining in his dark brow, he appeared to Crozier almost peaceful in his oblivion. “All will be well, Ned, I’ll see to that…” He found himself muttering, pulling the Lieutenant closer to him in a clumsy embrace, cupping the young man’s pallid face in the palm of his hand, and brushing the odd strand of hair from his soft cheek in a manner he hoped and prayed would be of comfort. He was only roused from his reverie by the arrival of Jopson with the sprightly Scots medico McDonald close behind him.

Little also did not stir an inch as the three men worked to man-handle him off the biting cold of the deck and into the nearest warm bunk which happened to be Crozier’s. He remained firmly in his oblivion even as they hauled him upright, tousled head dropping heavily to his chest, to wrestle him out of his greatcoat and the layers upon woollen layers beneath until finally he lay, rather small and vulnerable all of a sudden, in nothing but his shirttails.

“He’s exhausted, Captain.” McDonald concluded matter-of-factly after his examination a few moments later, retreating out from the berth to the spot in the passageway Crozier had all but worn through with his pacing. “Total and complete enervation. I’m surprised the Lieutenant had the strength left in him even to reach your quarters. I can see no great underlying malady to cause it though, sir-“

“I can.” Interrupted Jopson, raising his head from the heavy ships rota he had collected at Crozier’s request. The Captain had wanted to know just what tasks his First Lieutenant had been undertaking before he was so suddenly cut down.

The answer, it became immediately obvious as Crozier took the book from Jopson and surveyed it himself, was all of them.

Or if not all of the tasks, then damned near close. A heretofore downplayed spate of Goldner-can-induced gut problems had plagued large swathes of Terrors in the preceding week leaving many a man and officer alike stuck groaning and miserable in their hammocks and berths and leaving poor Ned Little to all but tend the ship singlehandedly. With a storm raging and cutting them off from Erebite reinforcements, the rota showed the Lieutenant everywhere alongside the remaining healthy men – high up in the riggings surveying the ice one minute, down in the hold hauling coal the next, and out in the seracs and the biting cold directing hunting parties the next still. Totting up the hours in his head, Crozier could have wept. For days on end it seemed, the Lieutenant had barely had a moment to eat and drink, let alone to catch the slightest wink of sleep.

“The mad bastard even holystoned the damned deck…” Crozier muttered, horror-struck, under his breath.

And the Captain himself had been blind, utterly blind, to the young man’s efforts, too, he realised with another pang of guilt. Too lost in whisky and resentment, morbing on about this and that and failing completely to note the extent of the near ship-wide illness or the duties it would have left undone but for careworn and steady Lieutenant Little’s intervention. Ned had not complained nor seen fit to burden anyone else with his worries, least of all the Captain, as he had delivered his reports in the days preceding. He had simply pressed forward on and on until he could no longer.

Crozier entered the berth and dropped wearily onto the stool beside the bunk, plucking Edward’s warm, lax hand up from the sheet and giving a firm squeeze that he hoped dearly would convey love, respect, regret, and every other thing he couldn’t yet put into words to the worn-out and rather bedraggled young man curled up in the bunk before him. As he did so, he noted the fresh and red-raw scrapes and calluses on Ned’s hands and the dirt and bruises that seemed to mottle every scandalously exposed inch of pale flesh, put there by hard graft and toil.

“I must be alone again with my thoughts for a while, Thomas.” Crozier announced at last. “If you’d be so kind as to fetch me warm water and a rag, I’ll tend the Lieutenant a bit while I think…”

The bright-eyed young steward nodded in assent and departed once more to do as he was bid leaving only McDonald by the doorway, a soft and easy smile on his face.

“I have all manner of stimulants and pick-me-ups to choose from, Captain, but in truth I believe he just needs rest. Clean him up by all means, keep him warm, but most of all, just let the man sleep. I’ll be nearby, sir” he concluded as he shrugged on his greatcoat and made to exit the berth, “if there should be another stramash…”

Edward looked smaller and more vulnerable by the second as Crozier gently daubed the worst of the grime away to reveal the alabaster white flesh beneath. That he had clearly lost weight through his exertions did not help and it showed in every outstanding rib and hollowed clavicle. As the water gradually cooled, he at long last began to stir just a little and broke the Captain’s heart all over again when, eyes screwed shut and brow furrowed, he made a half-hearted attempt to squirm away from the chilly water with a low, pleading groan, every inch of him trembling with exhaustion. He was just conscious enough to feel the momentary discomfort but not conscious enough, and with simply no strength left in him to do anything about it…

After a long and pensive night, the first hints of the Arctic sunrise were just beginning to creep up over the horizon when Ned at long last opened his eyes again. First he scanned the low dark ceiling of the berth with a rather puzzled and querulous scowl but when his bleary gaze finally alighted on Crozier’s expectant face, all changed. At the sight of the Captain, Ned’s dark eyes widened, he lurched drunkenly upright in the bunk, and began to ramble, groggy and clearly agitated.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Captain, I’m the… I’m the worst kind of sorry…! What… w-w-what can I do for you, sir-“

As quickly as it began, the rambling was cut abruptly short as Ned’s trembling arms buckled almost immediately beneath him and he collapsed awkwardly straight back onto the pillow with a heavy whoomph. Crozier pressed a hand firmly to his shoulder to keep him there.

“Be easy, Ned… What you can do for me now is be easy and stay right where you are.”

“A-a-alright, sir… Although… although I-I-I don’t believe I know quite where I am…”

“It matters not, Ned, don’t you worry… Here, take this…” Crozier continued, reaching for the water glass behind him. Bewildered and reluctant though he may have been in the moment, Edward was also as weak as a new-born kitten and so had little choice but to consent the Captain to lift his weary head to help him sip at the cool water.

“Wh-what happened, sir…?” Edward began tentatively. His voice was still hollow and croaky with exhaustion but he was growing more reassuringly lucid by the second. “How did I-I-I get wherever it is I am? I’m… I’m afraid I don’t remember a damned thing after Up Spirits…”

“Well, I do hope you remember the week before that, Edward? The one where you worked yourself damned near to death? Even if you don’t recall fainting flat on your arse in my cabin you must surely remember that…!” Crozier tried to keep the reproachful tone out of his voice as he spoke. He knew he wasn’t angry at Edward, after all, but at himself.

“I do recall now, Captain…” Came the doleful reply. Edward raised a shaking, weary hand to brush a lock of dark hair from his brow with a sigh before he continued. “Forgive me… There just…there just didn’t seem to be a choice. There are so many men ill now, sir, that half the berth has become a sick-bay a-a-and with Erebus cut off from us in the storm…”

With that he trailed off and turned away for a moment, biting his lip, trying and failing to mask the tears welling in his tired and bleary eyes.

“It’s been a long winter, sir… Longer a-a-and lonelier than I ever thought possible…” Again, he faltered and again fell silent with dark brow furrowed and a flush of mortified pink creeping into his cheeks – the first sign of colour Crozier had seen in him for days.

“Go on, Ned… Please… You have nothing to fear. I’ve made myself your nursemaid tonight, I may as well be your confessor too.”

“I’ve never been more bloody miserable in my command, Captain, if it’s a confession you’re after.” At his third attempt, bolstered by Crozier’s words, Edward finally came at the matter plainly. “All I have here a-a-are my instincts and my training and I find my faith in both waning by the day. I’m peevish of the ship, e-e-even more so of the men aboard her. It seems the more I seek to do right by them, the more wrong I do myself… I’ve never… I’ve never felt weaker…sir.”

Crozier thought in silence for a long moment, looking at his own careworn hands before meeting Edward’s expectant gaze, his dark slumberous eyes shining in the lamplight.

“I’ve been in your place, Ned.” He began. “I’ve been in your place, and I know all too well what a lonely and uncertain one it can be. But have you ever stopped to think that what you see as weakness could in fact be your greatest strength?”

“Sir…?”

“I didn’t choose you as my second for you to rule with an iron fist and muscle through things with brute strength, Edward. Quite the opposite, in fact. I chose you for your level head and your tender heart. I chose you because you care about the men under your command, because you seek so earnestly to do right by them, because you would never ask of them something you wouldn’t contemplate doing yourself… It has never been clearer to me, in fact, that you will not shy from doing things yourself, Ned…!” Crozier added with a grin, feeling his heart finally beginning to lighten as the weary young man matched it and gave a surprised and bashful snort of laughter.

“The loneliness, the uncertainty… As hard as it is, Ned, it doesn’t last. Have the same faith in yourself that I have in you, that the men have in you… I would implore you to take courage too, but it is clearer to me now more than ever that you have quite enough already.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Ned murmured, a tear shining softly in his eye. “I… I believe that’s precisely what I needed to hear…”

“Having said all that though, Lieutenant…” Crozier continued – his heart lightened and the way before him clear as he made to rise from the stool and exit the berth, “Your actions did violate several of the Articles and for that there must be consequences…”

“Oh… o-o-of course, sir…” Edward replied resignedly, attempting once more to haul himself up onto his elbows and just about managing to remain there this time, despite the slight tremble in his triceps.

“The punishment for your violations is this: you are to remain confined to your berth for the next week, ideally tucked up and toasty in your bunk. You may summon and speak only to Jopson who may only fetch you more blankets, books from the library, or any fine victual you damn well please from my personal stores…”

Crozier paused momentarily in the doorway of the berth.

“Oh, and whisky, Ned…” He added, allowing the veneer of seriousness to fall from his face and a smile to replace it. “I shall be touching the stuff no longer from this moment on. It is your responsibility, Lieutenant, to consume as much of that as you damn well please too and save your Captain the temptation…!”

Those who did not know Ned Little well could be forgiven for thinking that the young man never smiled. It was true that his natural expression was a rakish and brooding one, that he could often become so intensely focused on, so earnest and resolute in his completion of the task at hand that he verged on severity. It was also true, Crozier knew now more than ever, that such intensity was a mask, a front to hide the anxiety and uncertainty that was part and parcel to being a leader of men. He again recalled the feeling he himself had known as a young Lieutenant, admitted to himself that he still felt it on occasion and none more so than last night.

Ned Little, however, did indeed smile and when he did, Crozier also knew, it was a glorious sight to behold. Beaming and unexpectedly roguish, it changed his whole face, softening every handsomely chiselled line of it to unabashed boyishness, immediately warming his dark slumberous eyes, crinkling the corners sweetly. It lit up his face, then lit up the room, and on this particular morning, Crozier thought to himself as he exited the berth, heralded too by the Lieutenant’s roaring laughter, Ned’s smile outshone the bright Arctic sun itself.  

[fractured-hq]

EDWARD TONKS

Age & Birthday: 1948-1953.

Gender & Pronouns: Up to player.

Blood status: Up to player.

Sided: Neutral

Occupation: Up to player.

Face Claim: Up to player.

ABOUT THE CHARACTER

SCHOOL

School: Hogwarts

House: Up to player.

Extracurriculars: Up to player.

BIO

GROWING UP

Up to player.

START OF THE WAR

Up to player.

PRESENT TIME

Up to player.

CONNECTIONS

Andromeda Black - Wife

Up to player.

Things to consider:

Andromeda was born in 1952, they do not need to match age but the age gap should be within them knowing each other at Hogwarts.

TED is currently OPEN and played by PLAYER.

[erstwhile-punk-guerito]

[inlumenhq]

Edward “Ted” Tonks, 28, Hufflepuff Alum - Presumed Dead

Edward Tonks, Lily Potter, and Marz McKinnon went missing on October 31st. Many believe they are dead but their relatives believe otherwise. Something terrible is afoot and there is no knowing what the outcome may lead to.

past

Abandoned at a young age and deemed a “problem child,” Ted never had a place to call home. Their youth was spent moving from foster home to foster home with no permanent space to call their own. Emotional outbursts and things seeming to go wrong everywhere the child went were the main reasons adults wanted nothing to do with them. Misunderstood and without stable schooling, Ted was left near tears the day Hogwarts’ headmaster arrived to explain the school could take them. Only then did Ted know what it meant to have a home and be surrounded by people that wanted to support them. The adjustment was tough due to an unconventional upbringing but the professors were patient enough to help Ted learn and grow.

Edward didn’t refer to somewhere as home until meeting Andromeda. The definition of the word changed from somewhere to someone, with Ted content to be at Andromeda’s side despite their differences in blood type. Being a muggle was something that caused much consternation but Ted knew better than to let negative comments get to them. The two went on to marry and start a family and settled into an idealistic lifestyle.

present

As with all happy things in Ted’s life, the fairytale-like existence came to an abrupt end. They had gone out to grab groceries for Nymphadora’s favorite meal and never returned. The only memory Ted could recall of the day was everything going black and not being able to see once they came to. Pain and suffering are what they have come to know, with Edward trying their best to appease the death eaters. The hope is a bleak one, but maybe they may be able to do a good enough job to one day see their spouse again.

connections

Frank Longbottom - Once an ally and close friend, Edward hopes that Frank is still there to protect their family. Ted knows the Longbottoms are good people and doesn’t think that they will so easily be swayed to the dark side.

Rodolphus Lestrange - Smug comments about Andromeda are the only thing that have given Edward the slightest idea of who they are dealing with. At least, that was until a visit from both in-laws left Ted well aware that the Tonks and Lestrages don’t see eye to eye when it comes to family loyalty. 

Andromeda Tonks - Andromeda is their soul mate, and it kills them every day that he can’t be by their side protecting them. It hurts more than the torture of the idea that they left them behind. Ted does what the death eaters say though, the only reason being knowing it might one day get them back to their spouse and child. 

Bios and posts that reference Edward Tonks can be found by clicking this sentence.

Suggested FC’s

Sean Teale, Anthony Ramos, Christopher Larkin

Edward is not open to apply for at this time.

[letterboxd-loggd]

Beyond Tomorrow (1940) A. Edward Sutherland

December 10th 2022

[tudorblogger]

Monthly Reading Summary – August 2022

Check out my latest book summary post for August 2022!

[olderthannetfic]

Okay I NEED to know what the current most popular slash ships are, being on tumblr just feels like slash fandom is dying out, and I'd like to look up some ships because even if I don't like them, following other slash shippers feels so much nicer than seeing people bash them all the time.

--

On AO3, the m/m category is a tag like any other.

That means you can go directly to that tag and look at the sidebar, either in general or filtered for the past year. (No need to rely on those faulty ship stats.)

Broadly, the really massive juggernauts are still going, chugging along on fanon long after their canons have ended or gone to shit. A bunch of fandoms that younger people like are huge. And a lot of older people who used to only be into Western fandoms fell for The Untamed a few years ago and are now into lots of other danmei and BL fandoms. Thai dramas seem to be really heating up lately.

--

Here's the sidebar in general:

Castiel/Dean Winchester (108832)

Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski (68896)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter (66461)

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson (66324)

James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers (60107)

Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) (51611)

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark (44020)

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (42921)

Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (42063)

filtering those out:

Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku (39754)

Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian (37086)

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V (36739)

Keith/Lance (Voltron) (32031)

Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester (30843)

Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood (29711)

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) (29591)

Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter (28681)

Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin (28574)

Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs) (28260)

Or filtered for updating in the past year:

Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) (14878)

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (12640)

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (10617)

Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs) (10353)

Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku (8964)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter (8391)

Alhaitham/Kaveh (Genshin Impact) (8284)

Regulus Black/James Potter (7721)

filtering those out:

John "Soap" MacTavish/Simon "Ghost" Riley (6879)

Castiel/Dean Winchester (6751)

Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet (6723)

Getou Suguru/Gojo Satoru (6253)

Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian (6245)

Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) (6228)

Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor (5725)

Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know (5632)

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V (5201)

Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter (4199)

In general, I would look at things with canon gay and/or at big anime, c-drama, and kpop RPF fandoms.

And block dickheads liberally when you see them in the tags on tumblr.

If you want to hang out with oldschool people, you could always come to Escapade con. We should be having an online one some time in the summer. There's also a discord. We're currently doing a group watch of Mysterious Lotus Casebook among other things.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Timeline: Part 8 - November 2017

For earlier timeline posts: click here or here.

The one where Meghan's hustle finally starts paying off.

Also, Meghan's PR loyalties begin changing during this month. By mid-December 2017, she's stopped leaking to her usual sources - Star Magazine, US Weekly, and E News.

And when the engagement is announced, you can watch the official stories of how Meghan and Harry met begin changing in real-time.

11/1/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/2/2017: Meghan teases an engagement with adoption of a royal wardrobe.

11/3/2017: Meghan's role on a 2009 TV show resurfaces. Samantha Markle reveals internal family racism towards Doria and Meghan, and William's friends reopen a nightclub that Harry used to party at.

11/4/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/5/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/6/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/7/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/8/2017: Soho Farmhouse announces expansion plans. Meghan merches beauty products and calls Kate a fashion copycat.

11/9/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/10/2017: A television program searches for a Meghan Markle lookalike.

11/11/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/12/2017: Remembrance Sunday for the UK. The press points out that Harry is breaking military code by keeping his beard whilst wearing a military uniform. Doria sells her high school photos to the Daily Mail.

11/13/2017: Meghan papped filming wedding scenes for Suits.

11/14/2017: Meghan papped again on Suits sets. She fuels engagement rumors by hinting she plans to leave the show (but technically she already confirmed it last month).

11/15/2017: Affair rumors about Prince Philip resurface, ahead of The Crown Season 2 release. Promos reveal that the season will focus on tension in Philip and Elizabeth's marriage.

11/16/2017: Meghan lays groundwork for a PR narrative that the royal family is jealous of her popularity by reminding everyone that The Queen and Prince Philip were angry about Diana's popularity.

11/17/2017: Meghan's body-double/Suits stand-in reveals Meghan is moving to London soon. Meghan moves her dogs to the UK and merches her boots.

11/18/2017: Genealogists discover that Meghan's ancestor was beheaded by Henry VIII.

11/19/2017: Meghan owes her celebrity to her father's lottery win. Diana's former lover, Hasnat Khan, announces his engagement.

11/20/2017: The Queen and Prince Philip celebrate 70 years of marriage and Her Majesty appoints Philip Knight Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order. The royals celebrate with a swanky party at Windsor Castle; Meghan is not invited (her absence is confirmed next month). Meanwhile:

Meghan is papped arriving at the UK airport.

Samantha Markle gives an interview declaring desire to be invited to the royal wedding.

Financial reports announce that the Royal Family has contributed 1.8 billion pounds to the UK economy.

A rumor begins that Prince George will make a special guest appearance on Fireman Sam.

11/21/2017: Meghan is papped in London doing her Christmas shopping. She leaks to US Weekly that she has officially moved out of her Toronto house, her furniture was put into storage, and her personal belongings have been shipped to the UK.

The Daily Mail fires a warning to Meghan about how the 'needy' King Edward trapped Wallis Simpson and made it so she couldn't leave him. The implication is that Harry is similarly needy and will trap Meghan in a similar unhappiness.

11/22/2017: Meghan merches her scarf.

11/23/2017: Meghan gets a facial and merches the spa, fueling engagement rumors.

11/24/2017: Revisiting Prince Philip's stag party. Kensington Palace announces William and Kate will attend the Royal Variety Performance. Meghan leaks to E News that she and Harry are "practically" engaged, fueling more engagement rumors.

11/25/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/26/2017: Meghan merches her facialist and her treatment. The Daily Mail scoops Buckingham Palace and reveals an announcement is coming. They also recap Harry and Meghan's relationship and reveal that both Doria and Meghan have received RPO security details.

11/27/2017: Kensington Palace announces the engagement of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle and:

The Telegraph republishes its "Meghan Markle: The Making of a Hollywood Princess" story.

Meghan merches her coat, shoes, health tips, beauty, skincare, and boots.

They hint at receiving Sussex titles.

Revisiting all of Harry's ex-girlfriends.

Meet Meghan's besties and potential bridesmaids.

The Markle family comments on the royal engagement.

Meghan and Harry will live in Nottingham Cottage.

How Meghan Markle went from seedy LA tenement to the Palace.

How Catholic Meghan Markle survived her parents' LA divorce.

Meghan's life in photos

Meet the Markles

Meghan and Crown Princess Mary (of Denmark) are style sisters.

Mishal Husain was hand-picked by Harry to conduct the engagement interview.

Speculation about the wedding dress begins, with Meghan teasing an Australian designer.

Meghan leaks to US Weekly that she and Harry spent the weekend away before announcing their engagement.

Meghan leaks about her preparation and support from Harry to become royal.

Diana and Meghan would have been best friends.

Meghan retires from acting.

How Meghan tamed Harry

Royal fashion showdown: Meghan, Diana, and Kate

11/28/2017: Engagement coverage continues.

Violet von Wesetenholz is the royal matchmaker.

Doria gives a statement on the engagement.

Meghan's sixth grade school photos are published.

Meghan's sexy online photos resurface.

Quid pro quo: How Meghan supports her friends

Meghan and Harry merch Luckington Manor as a prospective home.

No, it's not Violet. The royal matchmaker is Misha Nonoo.

Harry papped at the gym in Chelsea.

Meghan did the calligraphy for Robin Thicke and Paula Patton's wedding.

Actually, Markus Anderson is the royal matchmaker. (I believe this one; the source is US Weekly, which is a confirmed Meghan ally. The Violet and Misha stories are from the Daily Mail.)

Samantha Markle says Thomas wants to walk Meghan down the aisle.

Meghan leaks that she and Harry secretly visited The Queen after announcing engagement.

See? Meghan can do royal glam too -- 11 times she won the red carpet.

Meghan merches her fashion sense and style.

11/29/2017: Engagement coverage continues.

All about Meghan's genealogy (again)

Meghan reveals Bogart was too old to fly and was left behind in Canada. She also leaks that the BRF is forcing her to stop acting and that the BRF is also making her stop her private charity work.

Meghan the humanitarian

Ninaki Preddy sells pictures to the Daily Mail. The motherlode includes a photograph of Meghan posing outside Buckingham Palace.

Meghan expected to join the royal family at Sandringham for Christmas.

Meghan merches tongue massages.

Aaron Korsh, the creator of Suits, reveals that Meghan was written out of Suits in 2016.

Meghan leaks her expectations to be better than Princess Grace of Monaco.

Meghan merches her beauty routine again.

11/30/2017: New day, same story.

Meghan is on the cover of Elle France.

Meghan merches her nose.

Meghan's soap commercial resurfaces.

Meghan's sorority pictures are published.

Kensington Palace announces wedding will be in May.

Remember when Meghan was a fashion expert/consultant for the Today show?

Northwestern University remembers Meghan.

Meghan has royal ancestors.

How will Meghan become a British citizen?

[love-studying58]

happy Masters of the Air release week. In honour of the series due to release on the 26th, I wanted to list a few faces we’ll be seeing throughout the series. I want to particularly note the crewmen of the 100th in hopes this makes sense to viewers who either a) didn’t have time to read any books based on the 100th bomb group, or b) want to read Masters of the Air by Donald L. Miller during/after the tv show aires. My lovely friend on tumblr @kylaym was happy to message me on instagram regarding who’s who for most of the 100th bomb group posts. She gets that everyone in uniform looks the same; same haircut, moustaches, masks, everywhere, etc. She mentioned it is always better to remember a bunch of lads as groups and crews than as individuals!

Here we gooo..

Colonel Neil “Chick” Harding

A West Point graduate and the school’s football coach prior to the war. Harding was a seasoned aviator who truly emulated much of the 100th’s attitude. He exhibited an appreciation for his crew’s mental and emotional well-being.

Major John C. “Bucky” Egan and Major Gale “Buck” Cleven

Two of the squadron commanders, Majors John “Bucky” Egan of the 418th Bomb Squadron and Gale “Buck” Cleven of the 350th, had piloting skills which matched their personalities. (Found top row 3rd and 4th members from left to right).

Captain John D. Brady

He served as a pilot in the 418th bomb squadron and was shot down during the mission to Munster on October 10th, 1943. (Shown here on the far left). He flew overseas in A/C #42-30071 “Skipper” as 1st Lt. Pilot. 2nd Lt’s being Lt. John L. Hoerr [Co-Pilot] and Lt. Harry Crosby [Group Navigator and Captain].

M/Sgt. Kenneth A. Lemmons

He served on the 351st Bomb Squadron and was one of the first crew chiefs assigned to the 100th Bomb Group. After being a part of the U.S. Air Force's ground crew, he was subsequently promoted to the position of flight chief. (Shown above in the front).

Harry H. Crosby

Harry served as a navigator in the 418th Bomb Squadron and later became Group Navigator for the Hundredth, however, his struggle with airsickness often hindered his ability to navigate. (Found above beside Brady on the right). Harry Crosby replaced Lt. Payne on the crew of Douglass.

Payne is found above on the right, beside Harry Crosby.

Lt. Howard B. “Hambone” Hamilton

He was a bombardier mostly known for flying with Brady’s crew.

On the October 10th Munster mission, crew #32 was led by Major John C. Egan as Co-Pilot. Near the initial point “Mlle Zig Zig” was hit by Flak, resulting in the following:

- Sgt Clanton passing away

- wounding Howard Hamilton and Roland Gangwer. (Both ended up spending a long time in the hospital).

- the surviving crew members bailed out but were taken prisoner.

Hamilton is seen above on the far left. Beside him on the left is Lt. James Douglass and Captain Frank Murphy.

Captain James Douglass

Served as a bombardier in the 418th Bomb Squadron with the Everett Blakely crew. (Seen above in the first picture beside Blakely).

Major Everett E. Blakely

Was a career officer of the United States Air Force. He was a highly decorated pilot of the B-17 bomber with the Bloody Hundredth Bombardment Group of the 8th Air Force. He is most commonly known for his crew’s plane “Just a Snappin”. On a mission to Bremen on October 8th, 1943, his plane was severely damaged by flak and enemy fighters. He later became the Group Training Officer (Shown above on the right and next to Major John Egan in the second picture above).

Blakely’s Crew:

Major John Kidd- Command Pilot

1st Lt. Everett Blakely- Pilot

2nd Lt. Charles Via- Formation Officer in the tail (SWA on the mission during Black Week)

1st Lt. Harry Crosby - Navigator

2nd Lt. James Douglass - Bombadier

T/Sgt. Edmund Forkner - Radio operator

S/Sgt. William McClelland - Ball Turret Gunner (WIA on the Black Week mission)

S/Sgt. Edward Yevich - Waist Gunner (WIA on the Black Week mission)

S/Sgt. Lyle Nord - Waist Gunner

S/Sgt. Lester Saunders - Tail Gunner (KIA on the Black Week mission)

Lt Roy Claytor

Roy Claytor was part of the 350th Squadron. Above, he may be flying as a command pilot in this mission or practice with the Claytor Crew.

He is seen above on the left, beside Cleven.

Major Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal

Rosie joins the unit in late 1943. He becomes one of the 100th's most reliable pilots.

Rosenthal's Crew:

[Shown left to right; top row than bottom row]

Sgt. Loren Darling - Waist Gunner

Sgt. Michael V. Boccuzzi - Radio Operator/Gunner

Sgt. John H. Shaffer - Waist Gunner

Sgt. Clarence C. Hall - Top turret gunner/engineer

Sgt. William J. DeBlasio - Tail Gunner

Sgt. Ray H. Robinson - Ball Turret Gunner

Lt. Ronald C. Bailey - Navigator

Lt. Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal - Pilot

Lt. Clifford J. Milburn - Bombardier

Lt. Winifred 'Pappy' Lewis - Copilot

Lt. Curtis Biddick

Lieutenant Curtis Biddick was known as a ‘hard luck’ pilot but was recognised as exceptionally expert and courageous. ‘Every time he went out something seemed to happen,’ said one of his buddies. On one raid he brought his plane back with 1,700 shell and bullet holes in it and two wounded men aboard.

He clashes due to his English colleagues embarking on night-time raids.

Richard Snyder

Biddick's co-pilot and was part of the 418th Bombardment Squadron.

Okay.... So I truly hope this helps going into Masters of the Air tomorrow. I can't wait to see all the bomber boys spread their wings and fly. This tv series is going to be an absolute wreck (in the best way possible). Thank you to everyone who enjoys my posts. Love y'all.