I want it to be his but don't think you could ever know for sure since it was restored. But it is possible it is real I guess.
That artwork is from when he started out flying P-47s. He only flew them for a short while. I guess the jacket could have been stored or sent home when he started flying 51s and it would have been worn very little.
Also his personal effects were sent home to his wife per protocol at the time. His mother said she never got anything of his back. Hofer supposedly married a mobster's daughter under duress possibly.
Shortly after this is when he ended up in the RCAF and was possibly running away from the father and daughter according to rumor. So who knows if this was possibly in those effects or ones sent home previously. I always wondered if the wife threw them away or stashed them in an attic. I would bet the attic.
The best book I have read on Hofer and supposedly gives the real story on what happened to him.
http://www.starduststudios.com/kidd-hofer---last-of-the-screwball-aces.htmlHere is a great article on Hofer and partial review of the book and the new info in it.
http://warfarehistorynetwork.com/daily/wwii/wwii-fighter-aces-ralph-k-kid-hofer/A couple of passages from the book and article that might be of interest.
For decades since the war, Hofer’s exact fate has remained a mystery, leaving historians to speculate on the events of his final mission on July 2, 1944. Recent research, however, has uncovered a number of facts that bring closure to his story and which now make it possible to piece together the fate of this remarkable pilot.
What Really Happened to Kid Hofer?
The first break in the case took place in the 1990s when the recollections of George Stanford, a former pilot in the 335th Squadron came to light in a memoir by former 4th Fighter Group pilot Frank Speer and later in Speer’s history of the group, The Debden Warbirds. On the July 2, 1944, mission to Budapest, Stanford had been leading the 335th Squadron with Hofer filling in as his wingman. At the start of the engagement with the Me-109s, Stanford was beset with mechanical difficulties. His drop tanks refused to jettison, and then suddenly his engine threw a piston rod forcing him to break away and head for the deck.
With no hope of nursing the crippled engine back to Italy, Stanford belly landed in a Hungarian wheatfield and was later taken prisoner. While standing near the wreckage of his plane, he spotted a lone P-51, which proceeded to buzz him at low level. The plane, he related years later, was none other than that of his wingman, Ralph Hofer, who apparently followed him down. What Stanford then saw behind the unsuspecting Hofer made his heart sink—an Me-109 following in perfect firing position. The Messerschmitt opened fire just before the two aircraft disappeared from sight, leaving Stanford convinced of Hofer’s fate.
Stanford’s account brought more pieces of the puzzle into place before the full story was uncovered. Subsequent research into Hungarian military records revealed that one Ensign Leo Krizsevszky, a pilot in the Me-109 equipped 101 “Puma” Regiment of the Hungarian Air Force, had in fact claimed an American P-51 on July 2, 1944. Full credit was withheld since Krizsevszky was unable to give the exact location of his victim, and no wreckage had turned up on Hungarian soil. Furthermore, Krizsevszky was killed on July 26, 1944, while attacking 15th Air Force bombers en route to targets in Austria.
While the claim of the Hungarian pilot dovetailed with the account of George Stanford, it did little to explain why Hofer’s body was recovered near Morstar, Yugoslavia, some 300 miles from Budapest. It was not until aviation artist and Hofer biographer Troy White published his book Kidd Hofer: Last of the Screwball Aces in 2003 that full details of the young ace’s final mission could be pieced together. Through painstaking research in both German and Yugoslav military records, White reveals that Hofer was not downed by an enemy fighter pilot, but like so many Allied aces of World War II, he succumbed to ground fire over the German operated Morstar Sud airfield.
As White points out, it is entirely possible that Hofer was attacked and possibly damaged by Krizsevszky as was recounted by George Stanford. White further argues, convincingly, that Hofer may have been attempting to nurse his damaged Mustang back to Italy and was attempting an emergency landing at the German base, or in keeping with his character, he may even have intended to strafe the field. What is certain according to the records of the flak unit stationed at Morstar Sud airfield is that a P-51 was shot down at low level and crashed into one of the drome’s flak emplacements at 1204 hours on July 2, 1944. The body of the American pilot was subsequently identified as Lieutenant Ralph K. Hofer, 334th Fighter Squadron, 4th Fighter Group, USAAF.
Ralph Hofer’s short but eventful career with the 4th Fighter Group has earned him a distinguished place within the legend and lore of World War II aviation. Among a breed of individuals for whom flamboyance and daring were hallmarks, Hofer stood out as exceptional to the point of reckless. His very involvement in the air war was the result of an unforeseen opportunity, which he immediately seized. His approach to combat flying was little different, and to close with the enemy he took every opportunity as it came without concern for the risk. Ranked as number 20 among some 260 Eighth Air Force fighter aces of World War II, Hofer demonstrated the old adage that fortune favors the bold, but also proved that fortune can be an all too fleeting commodity.
