THE BOMBING CAMPAIGNS OVER EUROPE AND JAPAN were as different as tea and sake, with one exception: Mustangs were the escort of choice for both—and for obvious reasons. While the B-17s and B-24s reigned supreme over fortress Europe, the distances in the Pacific--especially to the Japanese mainland—were greater, and only the B-29 had the range to make the trip with a big bomb load. And only the Mustang, with its long legs and fuel efficiency, could escort the bombers to the target area and still have fuel for combat. Follow along with one Pacific Mustang pilot as he endures flak, fighters and over eight hours of solitude in the cockpit of a P-51.
Itching to fight
I had been interested in aviation ever since Lindbergh crossed the Atlantic. As a kid growing up in Newark, New Jersey, during the Great Depression, all pilots were my heroes. I always looked to the sky to watch military aircraft flying over head, smiled and convinced myself that someday I was going to be a fighter pilot. The beginning of that journey began on December 7, 1941, when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. However, after I joined the Army Air Force, it took me over two years to finally get my hands on a fighter. Then, I barely survived 10 hours at the controls of a P-40 and thought, “What have I gotten myself into?”
To me, the P-40 was a small airplane with a tremendous amount of torque—you had to be both right leg and right arm strong to keep it going straight. Shortly after my P-40 checkout I wasgood especially with that big radial engine protecting us up front. By the time I had a couple of hundred hours in the P-47, the Truk invasion was called off and I was sent to get checked out in the P-51 Mustang. To me, transferring out of Thunderbolts into the Mustang was like riding on the back of a gazelle instead of strapped to the back of an elephant!
