Capt. Curran L. 'Jack' Jones, a 5-kill ace, flew with Lynch in the 39th squadron. In Eric Bergerud's Fire in

the Sky: The Air War in the South Pacific, Jones describes how Lynch balanced aggressivess and

calculation.

Thomas J. Lynch, born in Catasauqua, Pennsylvania, was a precise pilot, a technician. One measure of his

skill was the fact that he shot down three Japanese planes while flying the decidedly inferior P-39

Airacobra.

Lynch achieved 3 victories in a P-39: 2 over New Guinea on May 20, and another on May 26. The

squadron's combat diary include these comments on the P-39 from the pilots:

"Could have done better with a truck. It's more maneuverable and will go higher."

"Could have done damn good with an altitude ship."

But they gave as good as they got in these two months: losing 10 Airacobras (but no pilots), while claiming

10 Zeros.

"All good fighter pilots were aggressive. Some were exceptionally so. My dear friend Bob Faurot was like

that. ... Tommy Lynch was our leading ace. He was cold-blooded. I think he was the best fighter pilot in the

Pacific. In combat he was calculating. ... I preferred flying Tommy's wing compared to Bob's because when

Faurot saw the enemy he'd say "Tally Ho! There they are, let's get 'em." He'd climb up straight underneath

them and try to attack. Now that's risky against a Zero. You want to maneuver and find a good position to

begin your attack before closing. Skill and cunning had to be combined with aggressiveness.

Tommy Lynch never forgot he was responsible for the three guys along with himself."

Lynch's fine leadership contributed greatly to the success of the 39th Fighter Squadron, which counted

twelve aces among its pilots.

General MacArthur presented the medal to Bong on the Tacloban airfield on December 12, 1944. He tossed

away his written remarks and said, "Major Richard Ira Bong, who has ruled the air from New Guinea to the

Philippines, I now induct you into the society of the bravest of the brave, the wearers of the Congressional

Medal of Honor of the United States." Then he pinned the medal on Bong, they shook hands and saluted.

On August 6, 1945, while half a world away the Enola Gay dropped the bomb on Hiroshima, Bong stepped

into an airplane for the last time. His P-80 malfunctioned just after take-off, and while he bailed out, he

never had a chance. He was just too close to the ground. After surviving two years of combat flying,

Richard Ira Bong met his end while on a routine acceptance flight.

Toronto Officer Says U.S. Ace 'Doesn't Know How He Does It’

A United States Fighter Base, England, April 10, 1944 (AP) — Capt. Don S. Gentile, the leading United

States Air Force ace in the European war theatre, makes the job of mowing down Nazi planes sound as

easy as picking birds off a fence.

Asserting in an interview that he believed the Germans — apparently short of experienced fighter pilots —

are sending up novices with one veteran to lead them through combat, the 23-year-old airman added:

"The Germans always seem to fly in twos or fours, strung out in a line, and they keep right behind the

leader no matter what happens — as if they are afraid to branch off."

Gentile, who has destroyed 20 planes in the air, with claims of three more pending, in addition to seven

destroyed on the ground, willingly acknowledges his debt to his wing man, Lt. Johnny Godfrey, 21, who

has 16 kills himself.

Godfrey flies behind him, either to the right or left. Gentile keeps tabs on him by asking every few seconds

over the radio phone: "Are you still with me, Johnny? Are you still with me, Johnny?" Any German flier

who understands English can hear them calmly plotting his doom.

"You break to the starboard," Gentile will call out, "and 1'll hesitate and if he follows you around I'll follow

him and we'll have him right between us”

While Gentile was musing about his Technique, his squadron commander, Major James Goodson of Sultan

St., Toronto, a fellow graduate of the R.A.F., said: "Don doesn't know how he does it. He was just born

with the knack — and he does it."

"Just name a hero, and I'll prove he's a bum." - Pappy's self-assessment

Undoubtedly the most colorful and well known Marine Corps' ace was Gregory "Pappy" Boyington,

commanding officer of VMF-214.

Stories of Pappy Boyington are legion, many founded in fact, including how he led the legendary Black

Sheep squadron, and how he served in China as a member of the American Volunteer Group, the famed

Flying Tigers. He spent a year and a half as a Japanese POW, was awarded the Congressional Medal of

Honor, was recognized as the Marine Corps top ace (more on that below). Always hard-drinking and hard-

living, Pappy's post-war life was as turbulent as his wartime experiences.

In August of 1943, these 26 pilots, who would become the famous "Black Sheep" included:

8 pilots had flown with Greg in VMF-122: Stan Bailey, Hank Bourgeois, Robert Ewing, Paul

"Moon" Mullen, John Begert, Sandy Sims, Bill Case, and Virgil Ray. All but Lt. Ray had already

downed at least one Japanese plane.

Allan McCartney - 4 kills with a couple Marine squadrons

Bob McClurg - originally with VMF-124

Chris Magee, Bill Heier, Don Moore - all had flown with the RCAF

John Bolt, Ed Olander, Rollie Rinabarger, George Ashmun - former 'plowback' instructors in the

States

8 First Lieutenants with no Corsair experience - Bob Bragdon, Tom Emrich, Don Fisher, Denmark

Groover, Walter "Red" Harris, Ed Harper, Jim Hill, and Burney Tucker

2nd Lt. Bruce Matheson

"Colonel" Claire Lee Chennault had been in China since the mid-Thirties; he called himself "Colonel,"

though his highest rank had been Major. An outspoken advocate of "pursuit" (as fighter planes were called

then), in an Army Air Force dominated by strategic bomber theorists, he alienated many of his superiors.

But in China, equipped with P-40's, he developed the basic fighter tactics that American pilots would use

throughout the war. The Japanese planes used over China were much more maneuverable than his

Warhawks, whose advantages were: speed in a dive, superior firepower, and better ability to absorb battle

damage. Chennault worked out and documented the appropriate tactics that capitalized on the relative

strengths of the American fighters: intercept, make a diving pass, avoid dogfighting, and dive away when in

trouble. This remained the fundamental U.S. fighter doctrine throughout the Pacific War. My appreciation

of the pilot's bravery and Chennault's tactical skills, however, doesn't change my assessment of the

unfortunate and perhaps distracting role they played. The Chinese politics and Chinese-American relations

at the time were quite complicated. The titular leader of China, Generalissimo Chiang Kai Chek, of the

Kuomintang, was engaged in an endless three-way war: his Kuomintang vs. Mao's Communists vs. Japan.

And his own power within the Kuomintang was dependent on balancing various warlords, cliques, and

factions.

The Flying Tigers comprised three squadrons:

1st Squadron - "Adam and Eves"

2nd Squadron - "Panda Bears"

3rd Squadron - "Hell's Angels"

The "Black Sheep" fought their way to fame in just 84 days, piling up a record 197 planes destroyed

or damaged, troop transports and supply ships sunk, and ground installations destroyed in addition to

numerous other victories. They flew their first combat mission on September 14, 1943, escorting Dauntless

dive bombers to Ballale, a small island west of Bougainville where the Japanese had a heavily fortified

airstrip. They encountered heavy opposition from the enemy Zeros. Two days later, in a similar raid,

'Pappy’ claimed five kills, his best single day total. In October VMF-214 moved up from their orginal base

in the Russells to a more advanced location at Munda. From here they were closer to the next big objective

-- the Jap bases on Bougainville. On one mission over Bougainville, according to Boyington’s

autobiography, the Japanese radioed him in English, asking him to report his position and so forth. Pappy

played along, but stayed 5000 feet higher than he had told them, and when the Zeros came along, the Black

Sheep blew twelve of them away. (The absolute veracity of Boyington’s autobiography is not certain, but

that’s how he told the story.) One night with a quarter moon, he went up to try to deal with "Washing

Machine Charlie," but without results.

During the period from September 1943 to early January 1944, Boyington destroyed 22 Japanese

aircraft. By late December, it was clear that he was closing in on Eddie Rickenbacker’s record of 26

victories (including his questionable 6 with the AVG), and the strain was starting to tell. On Jan. 3, 1944,

Boyington was shot down in a large dogfight in which he claimed three enemy aircraft, and was captured.

The following is an excerpt from Boyington's Baa Baa Black Sheep describing his final combat mission.

It was before dawn on January 3, 1944, on Bougainville. I was having baked beans for breakfast at the edge

of the airstrip the Seabees had built, after the Marines had taken a small chunk of land on the beach. As I

ate the beans, I glanced over at row after row of white crosses, too far away and too dark to read the names.

But I didn't have to, I knew that each cross marked the final resting place of some Marine who had gone as

far as he was able in this mortal world of ours.

Before taking off everything seemed to be wrong that morning. My plane wasn't ready and I had to switch

to another. At last minute the ground crew got my original plane in order and I scampered back into that. I

was to lead a fighter sweep over Rabaul, meaning two hundred miles over enemy waters and territory

again. We coasted over at about twenty thousand feet to Rabaul. A few hazy cloud banks were hanging

around-not much different from a lot of other days. The fellow flying my wing was Captain George

Ashmun, New York City. He had told me before the mission: "You go ahead and shoot all you want,

Gramps. All I'll do is keep them off your tail."

This boy was another who wanted me to beat that record, and was offering to stick his neck way out in the

bargain. I spotted a few planes coming through the loosely scattered clouds and signaled to the pilots in

back of me: "Go down and get to work." George and I dove first. I poured a long burst into the first enemy

plane that approached, and a fraction of a second later saw the Nip pilot catapult out and the plane itself

break out into fire. George screamed out over the radio: "Gramps, you got a flamer!"

Then he and I went down lower into the fight after the rest of the enemy planes. We figured that the

whole pack of our planes was going to follow us down, but the clouds must have obscured their view.

Anyway, George and I were not paying too much attention, just figuring that the rest of the boys

would be with us in a few seconds, as was usually the case. Finding approximately ten enemy planes,

George and I commenced firing. What we saw coming from above we thought were our own planes-but

they were not. We were being jumped by about twenty planes. George and I scissored in the conventional

Thach weave way, protecting each others blank spots, the rear ends of our fighters. In doing this I saw

George shoot a burst into a plane and it turned away from us plunging downward, all on fire. A second later

I did the same thing to another plane. But it was then that I saw George's plane start to throw smoke, and

down he went in a half glide. I sensed something was horribly wrong with him. I screamed at him: "For

God's sake, George, dive!"

Our planes could dive away from practically anything the Nips had out there at the time, except perhaps a

Tony. But apparently George had never heard me or could do nothing about it if he had. He just kept going

down in a half glide. Time and time again I screamed at him: "For God's sake, George, dive strait down!"

But he didn't even flutter an aileron in answer to me.

I climbed in behind the Nip planes that were plugging at him on the way down to the water. There were so

many of them I wasn't even bothering to use my electric gun sight consciously, but continued to seesaw

back and forth on my rudder pedals, trying to spray them all in general, trying to get them off George to

give him a chance to bail out or dive - or do something at least. But the same thing that was happening to

him was now happening to me. I could feel the impact of enemy fire against my armor plate, behind my

back, like hail on a tin roof. I could see the enemy shots progressing along my wing tips, making patterns.

George's plane burst into flames and a moment later crashed into the water. At that point there was nothing

left for me to do. I had done everything I could. I decided to get the hell away from the Nips. I threw

everything in the cockpit all the way forward - this means full speed ahead - and nosed my plane over to

pick up extra speed until I was forced by water to level off. I had gone practically a half a mile at a speed of

about four hundred knots, when all of a sudden my main gas tank went up in flames in front of my very

eyes. The sensation was much the same as opening the door of a furnace and sticking one's head into the

thing.

Though I was about a hundred feet off the water, I didn't have a chance of trying to gain altitude. I was

fully aware that if I tried to gain altitude for a bail-out I would be fried in a few more seconds.

Prisoner of War

He landed in the water, badly injured. After being strafed by the Jap fighters, he struggled onto his raft until

captured by a Jap submarine several hours later. They took him first to Rabaul, where he was brutally

interogated. Even the general commanding Japanese forces at Rabaul interviewed him. Pappy related in

Baa Baa Black Sheep, that the general asked him who had started the war. After Pappy replied that of

course the Japanese had started the war by attacking Pearl Harbor, the general then told him this short

fable:

"Once upon there was a little of old lady and she traded with five merchants. She always paid her bills, and

got along fine. Finally the five merchants got together, and they jacked up their prices so high the little old

lady couldn't afford to live any longer. That's the end of the story." The general left the room, leaving

Boyington to ponder that there had to be two sides to everything.

After about six weeks, the Japanese flew him to Truk. As he landed there, he experienced one of the early

carrier strikes against Truk in February, 1944. Along with six other captured Americans, he was confined in

a small, but sturdy wooden cell - which might have been designed for one inmate. The only opening was a

six-inch hole in the floor, for relieving themselves. With six men in a tiny cell, this was unpleasant enough.

But when the Japs actually overfed them with rice balls and pickles, diarrhea resulted, and then the

situation became really messy.

He eventually moved to a prison camp at Ofuna, outside of Yokohama. His autobiography relates the

frequent beatings, interrogations, and near starvation that he endured for the next 18 months. The guards,

whose only qualification seemed to be passing "a minus-one-hundred I.Q. test," beat the prisoners severely,

for any infraction, real or imagined.

He lost about 80 pounds, and described how he once entirely consumed a "soup bone the size of my fist" in

just two days, a feat which previously he would not have believed a dog could achieve. During the middle

period of his captivity, he had the good fortune to be assigned kitchen duty, Here, a Japanese grandmother

who worked in the kitchen befriended him and helped him filch food. Before long, he returned to his pre-

captivity weight. He even got drunk on New Year's Eve, begging a little sake from each of the officers.

From Camp Ofuna, he witnessed the first B-29 raids, striking the nearby naval base at Yokohama.

When he was repatriated, he found he had been awarded the Medal of Honor and the Navy Cross. He also

added to his claims for aerial victories after his return. Several other pilots had seen him down one Zero,

which raised his total to 20 with the Black Sheep, and 26 if his claims for 6 with the Flying Tigers were

included. 26 was Eddie Rickenbacker's WWI record, and also the number shot down by Joe Foss, the top-

scoring Marine pilot of all time. Back in the States, in September of 1945, he claimed to have shot down

two more planes in that final battle. Frank Walton, the ACIO, prepared the combat report, and Boyington

signed it. As Bruce Gamble put it in Black Sheep One, "With a stroke of his own pen, Boyington was

credited with twenty-eight victories, making him the high scoring ace in the Marine Corps."

Capitalizing on his ability to speak Polish, he got the idea to transfer to one of the RAF's Polish squadrons.

In October of 1942, the new Captain Gabreski reported to Eighth Air Force Headquarters in England, to

finalize his assignment to the RAF Polish squadrons. 8AF HQ seemed to him to consist of about 20 people

running around in complete confusion, none of whom knew about him or his pending assignment. After

some weeks of inaction, he met some Poles from the RAF in London's Embassy Club. He introduced

himself to them in Polish and explained his proposal to them. They were very enthused, and were interested

generally in America's war plans. His new friends of the 315 Sqn shared with Gabby the origins of the RAF

Polish squadrons and promised to help him. Eventually both the US VIII Fighter Command and the UK

War Ministry issued their approvals, so that Gabby joined the 315 Squadron.

On February 27, 1943, he rejoined the U.S. Eighth Air Force, assigned to Hub Zemke's 56th Fighter

Group, flying P-47 Thunderbolts, then stationed at Kings Cliffe airfield. Two things struck him: 1) the

immensity of the P-47, a huge fighter with a 40 foot wingspan, and 2) the obvious military bearing of the

56th FG personnel, the influence of Hub Zemke. Capt. Gabreski was assigned to the 61st Squadron,

commanded by Major Loren G. "Mac" McCollom. The squadron pilots had all been through training

together, and regarded Gabreski, a Captain yet, as a bit of an outsider. Merle Eby introduced him to the P-

47 and showed him its operation, especially the turbocharger that required careful monitoring. Despite its

size, the P-47 was a nice handling plane, with the smooth roar of its big radial engine. Its climb

performance wasn't much; but it had outstanding roll and spectacular dive speed. Gabby liked its efficient

cockpit heating system and its eight .50 caliber machine guns.

His frustration ended on August 24, 1943, when he scored his first victory. From that day on, victories

came frequently, often by doubles and triples, until he led both the group and all AAF fighter pilots in the

theater.

Gabby described the mission of Dec. 11, 1943

When they came up to the bombers, Gabreski and the Thunderbolt pilots saw the bombers under attack by

German Bf-109s and -110s. The twin engine -110s were equipped with rockets to fling at the bombers. As

the 61st squadron turned to go after the -110s, two of them collided and exploded. The German attackers

scattered in every direction. The sky erupted into a wild melee of American bombers trying to hold

formation, others going down in flames, U.S. fighters hurling themselves at the German attackers, German

fighters swirling around, and German fighter-destroyers firing rockets. Gabreski focused on a trio of Bf-

110s, that broke down and away; as usual, the superior diving of the P-47 allowed him to catch them, and

shoot down the "tail end Charlie." His comrades took care of the two other Bf-110s. He watched his victim

plunge down, then searched the sky fruitlessly; he couldn't see any other planes from the 61st. And worse,

he was now getting low on fuel. He briefly tried to join up with a group of radial engine fighters, but he

edged away when he realized they were FW-190s. When he checked his fuel again, he realized that he

might not have enough to get home. He headed west, leaned out the mixture a little more than was safe,

adjusted to the most economical cruising speed and altitude, and prayed.

As Gabreski was checking gauges, he spotted a lone plane coming in at 3 o'clock. It turned out to be a Bf-

109. With his fuel situation, Gabby was in no position to dogfight the German, nor to take evasive action

that would take him further from England. As the German made firing passes at him, twice Gabby sharply

flew into his assailant, and continued his westward course. On the third pass, the German's shells hit, shot

away a rudder pedal and part of Gabreski's boot. Even worse the engine had taken hits and began to run

rough. The Thunderbolt started to spiral down, and Gabby let it go as long as he dared, playing 'possum' for

the FW-190 pilot. The ruse worked for a few seconds, but the German quickly dived in pursuit. Gabreski

reached the low clouds in time and eluded his pursuer. Nursing his damaged fighter and low on fuel, he

reached the advanced strip at Manston

When Gabreski 's total reached 28 air victories and 193 missions, he earned a leave back to the States.

While waiting to board the plane that would fly him to the US, Gabreski discovered that a mission was

scheduled for that morning. He took his bags off the transport and wangled permission to "fly just one

more." After his plane was armed for battle, he met no opposition over the target. Seeking targets of

opportunity, he spotted enemy fighters parked on an airdrome. During his second strafing pass, his plane

suddenly began to vibrate violently and crash landed. Uninjured, he jumped to the ground and runs toward

a deep woods with German soldiers in pursuit. Eluding them for five days, he began to make his way

toward Allied lines. He encountered a Polish-speaking forced laborer whom he persuaded to bring him

food and water. But eventually he was captured and interrogated by the famed Hanns Scharff.

Finally transferred to Stalag Luft I, a permanent prisoner of war camp holding Allied air officers, he was

barracked in one of the 20-man shacks surrounded by two rows of barbed wire fence. There he shared the

bad food, hunger and punishments, if possible. But he was proud of the men's spirits under such miserable

circumstances, for they had their own clandestine radios to listen to war news, a newspaper printed under

the very noses of their guards, and supervision of the simultaneous digging of as many as 100 escape

tunnels, few of which lead to freedom.

By March, 1945, after Gabreski was given command of a newly completed prisoner compound, food was at

rock bottom. But he did not lose faith. Soon he began to hear artillery to the East. When Russian soldiers

arrived, it was a joyous occasion and soon American planes evacuated the airmen to freedom.

After the war, Gabreski spent several years in flight testing and in command of fighter units before he

succeeded in getting an assignment to Korea.

Korea

In July, 1951, now-Colonel Gabreski downed his first MiG, flying an F-86 Sabre jet, despite its unfamiliar

new gunsight which he replaced with a piece of chewing gum stuck on the windscreen. Two months later,

after a huge dogfight over the Yalu on Sept. 9, he was pleased to congratulate two of his pilots, Capt.

Richard Becker and 1st. Lt. Ralph Gibson, when they became the 2nd and 3rd American jet aces. In

December 1951, he transferred from the 4th to the 51st FIW. In April, 1952, he scored his fifth kill of the

Korean air war, to become one of the few pilots who became aces in two war. That summer, cooperating

quietly with Bud Mahurin, Bill Whisner, and other commanders, he participated in the clandestine 'Maple

Special' missions across the Yalu River, into Manchuria. He was credited with 6.5 kills in Korea.

He ended a distinguished Air Force career as commander of several tactical and air defense wings. After

his retirement from the Air Force, he worked in the aviation industry and as President of the Long Island

Rail Road. He lived in retirement on Long Island, for many years as "America's Greatest Living Ace". he

passed away on Jan. 31, 2002.

Jagdgeschwader 26 (JG 26) Schlageter was a Luftwaffe fighter-wing of World War II.

Adolf "Dolfo" Joseph Ferdinand Galland

During the Spanish Civil War, Galland was appointed Staffelkapitän of a Legion Condor squadron, 3.

Staffel J/88,on the Nationalist side at Ferrol from mid-1937, flying ground attack missions in Heinkel He

51s. In Spain, Galland first displayed his dashing style, flying in swimming trunks with a cigar between his

teeth, in an aircraft decorated with a Mickey Mouse figure.

[6]

When asked why he developed this style he

replied:

I like Micky Mouse. I always have. And I like cigars, but I had to give them up after the war.

He flew over 300 missions in Spain, developed early gasoline and oil bombs, suggested the quartering of

personnel on trains to aid in relocation, and was awarded the Spanish Cross in Gold with Diamonds

following the Nationalist victory

Gustav Rödel was born on 24 October 1915 in Merseburg, Saxony. He joined the Luftwaffe with the rank

of Fahnenjunker in 1936, and underwent fighter pilot training. Rödel participated in the Spanish Civil War

with the Condor Legion, serving with JG 88. He was awarded the Spanish Cross in Bronze with Swords for

his achievements in Spain.

On 2 July 1941, Galland led JG 26 into combat against a formation of Blenheims. A Spitfire of the bomber

escort (probably from Polish 308 Squadron) managed to hit Galland's plane with a 20 mm shell. The

armour plate mounted on the fighter just days earlier saved Galland's life. Galland landed at base, where he

was hospitalised for the second time in a few days. Experiences like this taught Galland to respect his

opponents, and in some ways more importantly, his ground crew. Just earlier that week, when the armour

plate was installed, he severely berated the mechanic who did it when he hit his head on the canopy upon

entering his aircraft (due to the slightly restricted cockpit space). That same mechanic, when Galland was

discharged from hospital, received 100 DM and two days leave.

By mid 1944, the catastrophic aircrew losses suffered by the Luftwaffe prompted Galland to carefully

husband a last reserve of 1,000 pilots and fighter planes in order to strike a potentially decisive single blow

at the Allied bomber streams. However the daring operation, planned for late 1944, never came about, as

the reserves were squandered in the ill-fated Operation Bodenplatte.

Typically open, blunt and a consistent critic of his superiors, as the war progressed, Galland soon became

distanced from the Nazi hierarchy, who no longer tolerated his outspoken views. While patriotic, he

increasingly found himself at odds with them over how they ran the war as it began to turn against

Germany. In January 1945, he was finally relieved of his command and put under house arrest following

the "Fighter Pilots Revolt". Galland's high standing with his fighter pilot peers led to a group of the most

decorated Luftwaffe leaders loyal to Galland (including Johannes Steinhoff and Günther Lützow)

confronting Göring with a list of demands for the survival of their service, coupled with their concern over

the Reichsmarschall's lack of understanding and unwillingness to support his pilots against accusations of

cowardice and treason. Heinrich Himmler had wanted to put Galland on trial for treason himself. The

Schutzstaffel (SS) and Gestapo had already began investigations into who he associated with.

The Oberkommando der Luftwaffe appointed the more politically acceptable Gordon Gollob to succeed

him as General der Jagdflieger. Although professional contemporaries, Gollob and Galland had a mutual

dislike, and after Galland had removed the Austrian from his personal staff earlier in the war Gollob started

to gather evidence to use against Galland, detailing false accusations of his gambling, womanizing and his

alleged private use of Luftwaffe transport aircraft.

Galland was returned to front line duties in disgrace, and was initially assigned to command a Staffel of JG

54, at that time stranded behind Soviet lines in the Courland pocket. He never took up this command,

however, but was tasked to form JV 44 (Jagdverband) in March 1945. He was allowed to handpick a

number of formidable Experten for the unit, including such highly-decorated men as Johannes Steinhoff,

Heinrich Bär and Gerhard Barkhorn. Achieving seven kills over the USAAF, Galland led JV 44 until his

last mission on 26 April 1945, when he was wounded in a dogfight with an American P-47 Thunderbolt

and sustained a knee injury crash-landing his Me 262. It appears the Me 262 was not destroyed despite an

attack by two P-47s on the airfield. Galland managed a "wheels up" landing. The engagement resulted in

five American aircraft shot down.

His claims for aircraft destroyed include 55 Spitfires, 30 Hurricanes, and five French Armee de L'air

aircraft. All seven of his Me 262 kills were against American aircraft, two of them heavy bombers.

In the 1970s a San Jose State University graduate student came across Galland's memoirs The First and the

Last while researching records of United States Army Air Force records and matching them to German

victory claims. He found that James Finnegan, a P-47 Thunderbolt pilot of the 50th Fighter Group, Ninth

US Army Air Force, had made a "probable" claim on 26 April 1945, the day of Galland's last mission. The

details of the engagement matched. Galland and Finnegan met for the first time at an Air Force Association

meeting in San Francisco in 1979

Group Captain Sir Douglas Robert Steuart Bader

In 1928, Bader joined the RAF, but, on 14 December 1931 at Woodley airfield near Reading, lost both of

his legs in an aircraft crash attempting a slow roll at very low level following jibes about him not wanting

to perform aerobatics that day. Bader recovered, undertook refresher training, passed his check flights, and

attempted to stay in the RAF but was retired for medical reasons on 30 April 1933. After the outbreak of

the Second World War in 1939, he re-entered the armed forces and requested that he be assigned to the

RAF. Posted to a fighter squadron in 1940 Bader scored his first kills during the Battle of France, over

Dunkirk. During the Battle of Britain Bader became a friend and supporter of Trafford Leigh-Mallory and

his "Big Wing" experiments, which led him into conflict with Air Vice Marshal Keith Park. In 1941 Bader

participated in fighter sweeps over Europe as the RAF adopted a more offensive stance, but in August 1941

he was forced to bail out over German-occupied France, was captured and spent the rest of the war as a

prisoner of war. While a POW, Bader made as much trouble as possible, escaping in August 1942, only to

be recaptured and sent to Colditz Castle, the camp for POWs who made repeated escape attempts.