Dog fights and downtime : adventures of an ace fighter pilot : Italy WWII / by David Wilhelm

219 Pages·2016·3.25 MB·English

by  Wilhelm

Dog fights and Down time
Adventures of an Ace Fighter Pilot: Italy WWII
By David Wilhelm
Appreciation
Without the help of these people, I doubt I would have had the determination
to compile all these sources of information to write this book. I used letters from
my parents, my letters to them, my almost daily diary recording of the events,
and the official government documents. The writings were taken from these
documents to show their authenticity not my current recollections.
I received my chief Assistance from Steve Alldredge, a fine author and
reporter, who kept my determination to finish "Dog Fight" with focus, accuracy
and my expressing my thoughts and feelings as a member of the United States
Air Force. He edited, corrected, erased, added, omitted and improvised much of
my writings all in good cheer and friendship. Because of his contribution and our
good relationship, he made the effort of writing this book a joy.
EJ Thornton, the publisher, proposed the general direction of the book and to
incorporate my personal reflections and reactions of events for those four years
in service. She was accommodating in accomplishing the suitable time for the
publication.
Jean Russell, my daughter, complied, investigated, incorporated pictures that
were located from many albums that led to more clarity and interest in the
written word. I am most appreciative for her kind help.
David Wilhelm, who is one of my two sons, was constantly on the "ready"
for my many distressed calls as I floundered with my computers.
Jean Emery Wilhelm, my wife, whose patience and durability for my
inconsistent absence from our home. She instilled confidence that I did really
have something to say. Her patience and confidence and little tips along the way
bolstered my continuance of this book. I am most grateful.
Introduction
The Author, David Wilhelm
Like many men, the most dramatic event in my young life took place when
the world erupted into World War II. Americans were in a frenzy to enlist and
fight, and I was too.
I had made no analysis of the wisdom of the war or what was in store for me.
But after President Roosevelt declared war in his "Day of Infamy" speech
(December 8, 1941), I wanted to join the fighting forces. In particular, I wanted
to join the Army Air Corps to be a fighter pilot.
I served in our military from June 18, 1942 to July 26, 1945. As a fighter
pilot I had two combat tours and 148 missions in Europe and Northern Africa
flying P-40s, Spitfires, and P-51 Mustangs. A list of my awards and
commendations is at the back of the book. While I'm extremely proud of my
service and these distinctions, I have always felt that I was no different than any
of the fellow pilots who I was honored to serve with overseas.
During my time in the Air Corps, both in training and as a fighter pilot, I
wrote near-daily letters to my parents, and I am extremely fortunate that they
saved them.
My dad had the letters bound into two books. The first book was called "The
Chrysalis" because it contained my letters during my formative months in
training when my dad described me like a butterfly still being developed. The
second volume contained letters during my time in Africa and Italy, and it was
simply titled "Overseas."
I have also used two logbooks as resources. During my time in combat in
Italy and the Middle East, I wrote entries in those logbooks after each Spitfire
and Mustang mission, and amazingly they have survived all these years.
Using these documents of my personal history as source materials, here's a
little of what it was like to be a 23-year-old lad expressing his excitement, fear,
fatigue, boredom, worries, and dreams during training to be a fighter pilot and
then in combat overseas during World War II...
David Wilhelm
Denver, Colorado
November — 2015
Chapter 1
Training, Ft. Sill:
No place for Me
The telegram

Wilhelm's first letter home
Field Artillery Training Induction Center
Ft. Sill, Oklahoma
June 24, 1942
Dear Mother and Father,
It is rather difficult to write interesting news for all day at school offers little
variety and little news.
We are, however, finishing our course this Saturday, which none of us regret
a bit. The work is essential for Field Artillery but still it is pretty dull not having
any practical application for one who is anticipating transfer to the Air Corps.
This week, when we finished, we reverted to our old batteries in the
replacement center until we can get a new assignment which should come within
a week or two.
Our jobs at the batteries are pretty involved with duty assignments, physical
training, or training officers and enlisted men.
As for our future jobs, it is almost certain that we will be sent to new
divisions all about the country. Of the 39 members of our class, about 17 will be
sent to more schools — communications, materials, etc. — at (Ft.) Sill. Four
were called out the other day for overseas duty.
As for my position, I shall undoubtedly be assigned as if I had never applied
for the Air Corps for as yet I have received (no) word from Washington. Unless
the Air Corps proceedings speed up, I'm undoubtedly scheduled to be sent to
some field artillery division.
Since my application for the Air Corps has not been accepted to my
knowledge, my orders will read from Field Artillery headquarters and I shall
continue until my transfer is effected. I only hope that I don't get sent to
Australia or some place before Washington finally gets around to answering my
request for a transfer.
We shall know the time and place of our transfer from the F.A.R.T.C. this
Thursday, so when I call this week I'll give you the dope.
I have been going down to the Municipal Airport here at Lawton and taking
flying lessons. I have had three to date and (I) am coming along fine ...
Love,
David
Family
I was born in Chicago, Illinois, and lived there and Lake Forest till after the
war when I moved to Denver, Colorado.
Father was an earnest and devoted first vice-president of the Cudahy
Packing Co. who ran the company with his brother-in-law and president, Edward
Cudahy. Cudahy Packing was a successful national meatpacking company from
Cudahy. Cudahy Packing was a successful national meatpacking company from
1890 till 1960 when it was liquidated and sold.
My father enjoyed intellectual books on topics like history, philosophy and
general biographies, played weekend golf, and enjoyed bird shooting when time
allowed. He was close to all his children and spent his free time doing activities
with us.
My mother was an energetic and warm person who played golf and tennis
and loved to play bridge with her husband and lady friends.
My brother Edward injured himself as a child and contracted osteomyelitis
(then an infectious incurable disease that plagued him throughout his life.) Both
my father and mother cared for Edward with loving attention and care
(antibiotics like penicillin had not yet been discovered) but he committed suicide
when he was 24.
My sister Jean was a very popular and gregarious girl who was a good tennis
player and golfer. She was close to all of her family. As an adult she married
Daggett Harvey, the son of Fred Harvey, the man who created Harvey Houses in
the late 1800s, a string of restaurants and hotels along railroad lines across the
country.
I spent six years at a ranch school in Tucson, Arizona, and was given a good
education. My non-school time was spent on horses either herding cattle or
playing polo, a sport I became proficient in at 13. When I was 20, I was a
nationally rated four-goal polo player.
I attended Yale University from 1938-1942, joining the ROTC in the process
so that I could ride army horses to play polo. Horses and polo were in my blood,
and I would have gone into the cavalry during World War II but horses were
being phased out at that time.
At a ROTC summer camp at Fort Ethan Allen in 1941 we attended classes
on military history and tactics of warfare, paraded around in our wool uniforms
with wooden guns, and perfected our "close order drill" in 100-degree weather,
and occasionally fired the French 75 artillery.
Upon graduation from Yale as a second lieutenant in the Field Artillery, I
was given orders to report for active duty at Fort Sill, Oklahoma. I did not have
any plans to make the Army a lifetime occupation.