COLLECTOR’S ISSUE

WW II FIGHTERS
FROM THE COCKPIT
WE FLY THE
ICONS
ALLIED & AXIS Warming
PILOT REPORTS Up to a
I NS I D
E
Warhawk
ning
Stun e and
g
Vinta dern
Mo tos
Pho

FLIGHT
TESTED

ZERO
Facts versus Fiction
SPITFIRE
Is It Really That Good?
FW 190
Flying Germany’s Best
Display until February 13, 2018 MESSERSCHMITT'S
2017 $9.99 US $13.99 CAN BF 109
The Menace Mastered
HELLCAT VS. WILDCAT
FLIGHTJOURNAL.COM Comparing the Pacific Saviors
 Call Today to Save 25% and Receive Exclusive DISH Deals!

DISH Special Offer High Speed Internet

$
49 for 24 mo.
99/mo

190+ Channels
$
14 95/mo

ADD To Any DISH Package

Watch all of your favorites Easy and flexible package options

FREE Premium Movies SAVE When You Bundle

Get HBO, Showtime & more for 3 months Apply additional savings when you add Internet

FREE Next Day Installation! Options Available Nationwide

Scheduling may vary & up to 6 TVs Pricing and speeds vary

FREE Hopper HD DVR #1 In Customer Satisfaction

Record up to 16 shows at the same time 2016 independent study

Subject to availability. Restrictions apply.

#1 99.9% NO CONTRACT FREE

In Customer Service! Signal Reliability! Options Available Streaming on Any Devices!

FREE PREMIUM MOVIES

For 3 Months

Discover the Hopper 3

DISH Network’s Hopper 3 is the new standard in
Whole Home HD-DVR
Watch and Record over 16 shows at once!
Experience 4k Ultra HD Picture Quality
Integrated Netflix, YouTube, plus dozens more apps!

Call Today & Save Up To 25%! 1-855-768-1139

All offers require credit qualification, 2-Year commitment with early termination fee and eAutoPay. Important Terms and Conditions: Qualification: Advertised price requires credit qualification and eAutoPay. Upfront activation
and/or receiver upgrade fees may apply based on credit qualification. Offer ends 1/15/18. 2-Year Commitment: Early termination fee of $20/mo. remaining applies if you cancel early. Included in 2-year price guarantee at $49.99
advertised price: America's Top 120 programming package, Local channels HD service fees, and equipment for 1 TV. NOT included in 2-year price guarantee or advertised price (and subject to change): Taxes & surcharges, add-on
programming (including premium channels), DISH Protect, and transactional fees. Premium Channels: After 3 mos., you will be billed $55/mo. for HBO, Cinemax, Showtime, Starz and DISH Movie Pack unless you call to cancel. Other:
All packages, programming, features, and functionality and all prices and fees not included in price lock are subject to change without notice. After 6 mos., you will be billed $8.99/mo. for DISH Protect unless you call to cancel. After 2
years, then-current everyday prices for all services apply. For business customers, additional monthly fees may apply. HBO®, Cinemax® and related channels and service marks are the property of Home Box Office, Inc. SHOWTIME is
a registered trademark of Showtime Networks Inc., a CBS Company. STARZ and related channels and service marks are property of Starz Entertainment, LLC.
 CONTENTS FLIGHT JOURNAL WW II FIGHTERS: FROM THE COCKPIT | 2017

FEATURES COLUMNS

6 ‹ Curtiss P-40 Warhawk 54 ‹ Flying the Me 262 4 ‹ Editorial

Test Pilot Relates a Close Call Willy Messerschmitt's Masterpiece
by Corky Meyer by Capt. Eric Brown 82 ‹ Tailview
In a Lifetime of Flight
16 ‹ Flying the P-47 62 ‹ We Fly the FW 190 by Budd Davisson
The Jug and I Portrait of a Winner
by Corky Meyer by Capt. Eric Brown

28 ‹ Navy Taste Test: 74 ‹ Zero: Myth,

Hellcat vs. Corsair Mystery, and Truth
Grumman Test Pilot Flies the A Test Pilot Compares the
Competition A6M5 Zero to U.S. Fighters
by Corky Meyer by Corky Meyer

38 ‹ Elliptical Elegance
Flying and Evaluating the
Seafire Mark III
by Corky Meyer

44 ‹ Flying the Bf 109

Two Pilots Give Their Reports
by Mark Hanna & Capt. Eric Brown

ON THE COVER: The P-40 fired some of America’s opening shots
in WW II and was still working hard on the last day. However, test pilot
Corky Meyer found it to be an entirely different breed of cat from his
familiar Wildcat. (Photo by John Dibbs/planepicture.com)
THIS PAGE: The Mk I Spitfire ushered in a family of beautiful RAF
combat aircraft that won the hearts of all who flew her and earned the
ire of all who fought her. (Photo by John Dibbs/planepicture.com)
FLIGHT JOURNAL (USPS 015-447; ISSN 1095-1075) is published bimonthly by Air Age Inc.,
88 Danbury Rd., Wilton, CT 06897 USA. © Copyright 2017, all rights reserved. Periodicals postage
permit paid at Wilton, CT, and additional offices. Canadian Post Publications Mail Agreement no.
40008153. SUBSCRIPTIONS: Go to FlightJournal.com. U.S., $29 (1 yr.); Canada, $34 including
GST (1 yr.); international, $39 (1 yr.). All international orders must be prepaid in U.S. funds; Visa,
MC, Discover and AmEx accepted. EDITORIAL: Send correspondence to Editors, Flight Journal,
88 Danbury Rd., Wilton, CT 06897 USA. Email: flight@airage.com. We welcome all editorial
submissions, but assume no responsibility for the loss or damage of unsolicited material. All
material contained herein is protected under the terms of U.S. copyright laws. Reproduction in
any form, including electronic media, is expressly prohibited without the publisher’s written
permission. © Copyright 2017 Air Age Inc. All Rights Reserved. ADVERTISING: Send advertising
materials to Advertising Dept., Flight Journal, 88 Danbury Rd., Wilton, CT 06897 USA; (203)
431-9000. Email: advertising@airage.com. CHANGE OF ADDRESS: To ensure that you don’t miss
any issues, send your new address to Flight Journal, P.O. Box 420134, Palm Coast, FL 32142-0235
USA, six weeks before you move. Please include address label from a recent issue, or print the
information exactly as shown on the label. For faster service, go to FlightJournal.com, and click
on the customer service link. POSTMASTER: Please send Form 3579 to Flight Journal, P.O. Box
420134, Palm Coast, FL 32142-0235 USA.
 EDITORIAL
FROM THOSE WHO KNEW:
Fighters from the Inside
BY BUDD DAVISSON
T
his Flight Journal special issue is more special than
any we’ve done in the past 21 years. That is because
we’re revisiting tales told in the pages of Flight Journal
by people who were privy to knowledge only they,
and a select few others, possessed. They were all test pilots at
a time when the fighter was coming of age, when the pressure
of war was forcing amazing advances in amazingly short peri-
ods of time. They knew what it was like to fly the steel steeds
of friend and foe alike and, in so doing, were able to pass that
important information on to young pilots who would soon be
defending their lives, their buddies, and their nations in the
three-dimensional do-or-die arena of air combat.
A good percentage of what you’re about to read came from
the wildly imaginative and humorous mind of one of Flight
Journal’s all-around favorites: the late Corky Meyer. Corky
went from being a low-time fledgling pilot to being Grum-
man’s top-dog test pilot in only a few short years, all of them
being wartime years. He even became one of only two civil-
ian pilots to be carrier-qualified by the U.S. Navy, Grumman’s
biggest customer. However, Corky—and the nation—profited
from an industry-wide program in which test pilots from all
the airframe companies were expected to fly the competition’s
products to learn from them. So he knew aircraft from Curtiss,
North American, and others almost as well as he did Grum-
man’s work. Furthermore, Corky and a few other test pilots
were part of a conference convened at Naval Air Station Patux-
ent River in 1944, where they not only flew all the U.S. aircraft
but also tasted such icons as the Spitfire and Mitsubishi Zero.
4 FlightJournal.com
That being said, perhaps Corky’s most appreciated skill
was his unique ability to spin a terrifically exciting and
humorous flying tale and still pass along technical informa-
tion in a way that made sense to Everyman. When reading
PHOTO BY JOHN DIBBS/PLANEPICTURE.COM
his evaluation of a Hellcat, Warhawk, or Japanese Zero, we’re
sitting at the knee of not only a master pilot but a master
storyteller as well.
As an aside, Corky was also one of the most likable, friendly
people we have ever known. We loved him dearly.
Also central to this special issue, are past FJ writings of Eric
“Winkle” Brown, who was the test pilots’ test pilot. Having
flown more different aircraft types than any other pilot (487)
and still reportedly holding the record for the most carrier
landings (2,271), Brown flew almost every aircraft that was
in inventory by almost every nation during and after WW II.
His detailed analyses of such legendary aircraft as the Bf 109
(see his and Mark Hanna’s evaluation of the airplane) and
FW 190 were among the very first flights made of captured
German aircraft and proved invaluable for designers from the
United Kingdom seeking ways to beat their Luftwaffe compe-
tition. Equally as important was his test work in developing
carrier aviation, including being the first to land a jet on a
carrier. He was also central to the development of the Royal
Air Force catapult and arresting systems, which became the
standards for such operations on both sides of the Atlantic.
So gather ’round. We’re about to learn the secrets of leg-
endary airplanes as described by legendary pilots. A rare
opportunity! J
The Aviation Adventure
Past, Present, and Future

R E AT
G I F T!
G

Includes digital
edition

Flight Journal is like no other aviation magazine in the world.

Gripping accounts of flights and combat missions put the reader in the
cockpit with pilots, engineers, gunners and eyewitnesses. The leader
in the field of aviation photojournalism, Flight Journal captures what
it’s like to pilot aircrafts that inspire fear and awe, from the historic
B-17 Flying Fortress to today’s F-16 fighters.

FlightJournal.com/SubscribeFlightJournal
CURTISS P-40
TEST PILOT RELATES A CLOSE CALL
BY CORKY MEYER

PHOTO BY JOHN DIBBS/PLANEPICTURE.COM

6 FlightJournal.com
WARHAWK

Ubiquitous is a little-used word. Webster’s dictionary defines it simply as

“everywhere, at the same time.” No other word better sums up the history of
the 13,738 Curtiss P-40 Warhawks, Kittyhawks, and Tomahawks delivered in the
United States and to 11 other countries from January 1940 to September 1944.

WW II Fighters 7
CURTISS P-40 WARHAWK
The P-40N I flew on June 30,
1943. From this angle, it’s
easy to see why the aircraft
absolutely must be S-turned
both on the ground and in
climbs if the pilot is to have
clear forward vision. (Photo
courtesy of Northrop Grum-
man History Center, via
Corky Meyer)
8 FlightJournal.com
Without a doubt, the P-40 was the most loved
and hated fighter to serve in WW II. It was
the first single-seat fighter available in such
large numbers, so it was used on all fronts, and
even though it was widely considered to be
outmoded in comparison with the far-superior
enemy fighters, its deficiencies were balanced by
how easy it was for low-time pilots to transition
into it and its ability to absorb terrible punish-
ment and bring its pilots home. Its design was
structurally agreeable to modifications, which
allowed it to keep up with wartime’s changing
requirements almost until the end of hostilities.
Between the two world wars, U.S. fighter
development fell behind the rest of the air forces
of the world because of the U.S. Army Air Corps’
(USAAC) overwhelming preoccupation with the
long-range, four-engine B-17 and B-24 bombers.
This policy devoured a large portion of the Air
Corps’ limited appropriations during the 10-year
Depression era. The massive defensive arma-
ment of the four-engine bombers and the small
difference between the performance of fighters
and bombers at the time greatly aided and abet-
ted B-17 and B-24 manufacturing.
Fortunately, by December 7, 1941, Curtiss had
delivered 3,024 P-40s and Bell had delivered 939
P-39s to the USAAC. Those deliveries provided
more than half of the fighter strength available
to the USAAC overseas until September 1943,
when the P-38 Lightning, P-47 Thunderbolt, and
P-51 Mustang arrived in the European and Pacific
theaters of operation. The P-40’s length of duty
and usefulness is acknowledged by the fact that
one 91-plane fighter group existed in the overseas
inventory until the end of the war in 1945.
I Meet a P-40 Warhawk
My first exposure to a Curtiss P-40 came exactly
15 months before my career as a Grumman
test pilot began. It was August 12, 1941—a hot
and sticky day—and I was watching a Stinson
Reliant NC 17124 taxi into position at the East
Boston airport for takeoff for a three-hour, cross-
country training flight. This was an important
part of my government-funded, MIT-sponsored,
civilian pilot-training program. I should have
been aboard, but my trolley ride from MIT was
late getting me to the airport, and my instructor
had to replace me with another student. I stood
there envious of him—a few seconds later, I
wouldn’t be.
As the Stinson was given a green light from
the tower (there were no radios in towers at
the time), it began to roll. Out of the corner
of my eye, I saw a P-40B from the Army Air
Corps squadron start its takeoff roll from the
other side of the field. Stunned, I watched the
planes crash in the center of the field. The P-40
clawed its way through the Stinson, killing the
instructor pilot and severely maiming two of my
student-pilot friends. The third student and the
Air Corps pilot were miraculously unhurt. Both
aircraft came to a stop without exploding. P-40
accidents had become all too frequent at the
East Boston airport. During the previous three
weeks, there had been two fatal P-40 spins to the
ground shortly after takeoff. In a daze, I walked
back into Wiggins Airways operations office to
find out if, or when, I would fly again.
My next P-40 encounter was when I worked
as a test pilot for Grumman during WW II. In
June 1943, Bud Gillies, who was vice president
of flight operations, told me that there was to be
a swapping of Army Air Corps and Navy fight-
ers for test-pilot evaluation and familiarization
at the various U.S. aircraft plants. After that
announcement, we soon took delivery of the
latest P-51B, P-40N, P-38G, and a P-39 aircraft.
The Curtiss P-40N arrived on July 30, 1943. Bud
Gillies and chief test pilot Connie Converse
checked themselves out in it before I flew it.

The Very Skimpy P-40N
Pilots’ Handbook
When it was my turn to fly my first non-Grum-
man fighter, I thought I was fully informed
of its quirks because I had scanned the pilots’
handbook once.
To refresh my memory as I wrote this article,
I had Jay Whistler, a friend of mine, send me a
copy of the June 1944 P-40N pilots’ handbook,
which has an introduction signed off by the
chief of the Army Air Corps, Gen. “Hap” Arnold.
Reading it today was a shock to me because of
the dearth of information provided for pilot
checkout. Here are a few of its revelations and
just a few examples of its deficiencies:
• It had only one picture of the pilot’s instru-
ment panel—no pictures of the right- and left-
side cockpit panels. Nothing on the instrument
panel picture was labeled or identified.
This P-40N shows the
• The one-page dive section had absolutely 20-inch extension on the
aft fuselage; the extension
no airspeed versus normal acceleration (G) moved the fin and rudder far-
data that would show the buffet boundaries or ther behind the horizontal-tail
G-limitation curves as these change with alti- assembly to improve direc-
tional stability and to reduce
tude. A pilot had no way of knowing this crucial the blanking of the vertical tail
information before going solo unless he asked during spins. Unfortunately,
his instructor. With the lack of information in it was a grossly insufficient
attempt to improve the very
the handbook, he might well pull the wings off bad handling characteristics
in a dive recovery. in the low-speed, stall-spin
regime. (Photo courtesy of
• The dive section also states: “Vertical dives the USAAC, via Corky Meyer)
from above 20,000 feet are not recommended
because of the danger of compressibility.” But
there wasn’t any mention of compressibility’s
Twenty-six P-40s were
terrible effects, e.g., that it would, at low altitude, lengthened to make room
freeze the controls and prevent the pilot from for complete instructor pilot
pulling out. All this information was well known cockpits to accelerate the
training of wartime pilots and
at the date of publication of this handbook. to lower the airplane’s acci-
dent rate. (Photo courtesy of
However, it did say in the stalls section, “You the USAAC ,via Corky Meyer)
WW II Fighters 9
CURTISS P-40 WARHAWK

THE P-40 a second-class fighter

Historians have treated the P-40 and the
Grumman F4F-4 Wildcat as second-class
fighting machines. But when the United
States entered the War on December 7,
1941, those two fighters and the Bell P-39
Airacobra were the only fighters that U.S.
manufacturers had been producing in suf-
ficient quantities.
The P-40 started its life after Curtiss
was awarded a U.S. Army Air Corps modi-
fication contract on April 26, 1938; this
changed the Curtiss radial engine P-36 to
an in-line Allison V-1710-powered fighter.
Test pilot Ed Elliot first flew the XP-40 on
October 14, 1938. On April 26, 1939, the
new Air Force Expansion act allocated funds
for 524 P-40 pursuit ships at $22,990 each.
On this same day, a production contract
was awarded to the Bell Aircraft Co. for
13 YP-39s.
President Roosevelt had requested
the Expansion Act in Congress just a few
months before, and it was designed to
quickly produce 50,000 military aircraft
a year in case the United States became
embroiled in the war. By this time, it was
obvious that the United States would have
to support France and Great Britain with
their armament buildup against Hitler’s
Luftwaffe.
The first 11 P-40s were accepted in May
1940, and at the end of 1940, they were in
U.S. Army inventory with the 8th, 20th, and
31st Pursuit Groups. On October 5, 1939,
France ordered 100 P-40s. After the fall of
France in May 1940, the Royal Air Force (RAF)
took over the French order for 100 P-40s
and increased it to 1,180. The aircraft were
equipped with two .50-caliber nose guns and
four .303-caliber wing guns and, for the first
time, self-sealing tanks. By the end of 1940,
558 P-40B and C models had been delivered
to the RAF as Tomahawks.
The hundreds of Tomahawks, which
served with the RAF in North Africa, were
inferior to Me 109s, especially in altitude
performance. But they were there in
numbers, and they did stem the German
advance despite Germany’s superior pilot
training. Australian Clive Caldwell scored
20.5 victories while flying the P-40 in Africa
during this critical period.
To understand the P-40’s performance
deficiencies, you should know that the
Allison-powered Tomahawk could do only
370mph in level flight up to 10,000 feet,
and its supercharging gave it a poor ser-
vice ceiling of only 20,900 feet altitude.
Compared with the Me 109, the Tomahawk
had two strikes against it, but its ready
availability enabled it to keep playing the
The P-40Fs used for training in the United States
were the first Warhawks to have the Packard-built
Rolls-Royce Merlin 28 V-1650-1 engines. They gave
the P-40 about a 10,000-foot-higher fighting-
altitude capability. (Photo courtesy of the USAAC, via
Corky Meyer)
fighter game, although under great duress.
In May 1941, the Third Lend-Lease Act
provided Curtiss with a contract for
1,500 more British Kittyhawks to be built
in parallel with a large Army Air Corps con-
tract. On December 8, 1941, the U.S. Army
Air Corps renamed its increasing number of
Kittyhawks: They became Warhawks.
During the attack on Pearl Harbor,
Lt. George Welch, heir to the Welch’s
Grape Juice fortune, shot down four Japa-
nese aircraft. Several days later, Lt. Boyd
Wagner, also in a P-40, shot down eight
Japanese aircraft in the Philippines and
became America’s first USAAC ace. (After
flying throughout the war, George Welch
joined North American Aviation to become
its chief test pilot. He was later killed while
testing its F-100 supersonic jet fighter.)
By this time, P-40s were coming off the
Curtiss production lines at a rate of more
than 250 a month, and they were also being
supplied to the air forces of the Soviet Union,
Britain, Turkey, Australia, New Zealand, Cana-
da, and five other countries. P-40 Warhawks
were becoming truly ubiquitous.
In September 1942, Warhawks met the
Japanese attack at Dutch Harbor, Alaska.
By that time, Japan was surrounded by War-
hawk squadrons: the 343rd Group in Alaska,
the 15th and 18th Groups in Hawaii, the 68th
Group on Tongatabu in the South Pacific, the
49th Fighter Group, and Australian squad-
rons in the Southwest Pacific and the 23rd
and 51st Groups in Asia. Warhawks were
also serving in the Panama Canal Zone, and
training units served on the U.S. East and
West coasts. Their presence in the Pacific
soon forced the Japanese to consider them
a very potent foe.
The most publicized WW II fighter group
was Claire Chennault’s legendary American
Volunteer Group (AVG), which harassed the
Japanese in China with P-40B and C Toma-
hawks. Between December 20, 1941, and
July 1942, when the AVGs were absorbed

can stall the P-40 at any speed, in any position,
if you coordinate the controls properly.” It also
had a stern warning: “Do not practice stalls
under 8,000 feet; you might not have room to
recover.” And I had missed that part completely!
Flying the P-40N
I sat in the cockpit and spent 15 minutes becom-
ing familiar with the details; then I started the
engine and taxied out for takeoff. While taxiing, I
noted that the throttle had two pieces of soft alu-
minum safety wire across the throttle slot—one
at about one inch away from and another at half
an inch from the full-throttle position. I didn’t
remember reading about that. It was another
minor detail omitted from the handbook!
The view over the nose was poor, and to taxi
safely, I had to use the brakes a lot and S-turn all
the way down the runway to the takeoff posi-
tion and during the subsequent takeoff ground
run. I then clearly saw why the P-40 pilot of the
Boston accident couldn’t possibly have seen the
Stinson taking off.
I took off amid the clatter of the mighty
Allison V-1710-99’s 1360hp with my canopy
open (as we did in all Navy fighters). The accel-
eration to climb speed was considerably faster
than that of the Hellcat, but because of its much
higher nose angle, I had to S-turn during the
climb because there were then very many Grum-
man and Republic Aviation test flights being
conducted over Long Island. But I soon began to

10 FlightJournal.com
into the Army Air Corps 23rd Pursuit Group,
they destroyed 297 aircraft with a loss of
only 35 of their own owing to Japanese
action—a fantastic 8.5-to-1 kill-to-loss ratio
for a “second-class” fighter. Their tactic of
making only high-speed attacks on Japa-
nese Zeros and not staying to dogfight with
the nimble aircraft became the standard
U.S. fighter tactic against Japanese aircraft
for the rest of the war.
The P-40N was the last of the “ubiqui-
tous” Warhawk production line. During
August 1943, Curtiss delivered 463 P-40Ls
as the monthly record for P-40 produc-
tion. In all, 13,768 P-40s of all models had
been accepted since May 1940. Production
ended in November 1944. After winning a U.S. Army Air Corps modification contract on April 26, 1938, the Curtiss Co. modified its radial-
Because of the very high training and engine P-36 into an in-line Allison V-1710-powered fighter that became the XP-40. It first flew on October 14,
1938, with test pilot Ed Elliot at the controls. (Photo courtesy of Stan Piet)
operational stall-spin accident rates, the
P-40F-5 and subsequent models had an ex-
tension added to the rear of its fuselage and stability and greatly reduced the blanking directional stability in normal flight because
its fin and rudder were moved aft by 20 inch- out of the fin and rudder by the horizontal the rudder and fin were much farther back
es. This supposedly improved its directional tail surfaces during spins. It also improved from the aircraft’s center of gravity.

Powerplant: One Allison V-1710-39 (4,575m)—6 to 7 min.; range— P-40E-1 SPECS

12-cylinder liquid-cooled engine
rated at 1,150hp at 3,000rpm for
takeoff and as military power at
11,700 ft. (3,570m).
Three-blade Curtiss Electric con-
stant-speed metal propeller. Internal
fuel capacity—124 Imperial gal. (564
liters); provision for one 43-Imperial-
gal. drop tank (197 liters).
Performance: Max speed—335mph
(539 km/h) at 5,000 ft. (1,525 m),
362mph (582 km/h) at 15,000 ft.
(4,575m); max continuous cruise—
296mph (476 km/h) at 5,000 ft.
(1,525m), 312mph (502 km/h) at
15,000 ft. (4,575m); time to 5,000 ft.
(1,525m)—2 to 4 min., to 15,000 ft.
525 miles (845 km) internal fuel at
max continuous cruise.
Weights: Empty equipped—6,350 lb.
(2,880 kg); normal loaded—8,400 lb.
(3,814 kg); max— 9,100 lb. (4,131 kg).
Dimensions: Span—37 ft. 4 in. P-40E
(11.38m); length—31 ft. 9 in. (9.68m);
height—12 ft. 4 in. (3.76m); wing
area—236 sq. ft.
Armament: Six 0.50-in. (12.7mm)
Colt-Browning M2 machine guns
with an average of 281rpg. Provision
for one bomb (up to 500 lb./227 kg)
on fuselage centerline and two P-40L
100-lb. (45 kg) bombs under wings.

enjoy flying the Warhawk because of its startling
performance.
I had learned that the first thing a test pilot
does is to check out the landing-condition stall
carefully so that he will understand the aircraft’s
possible flight characteristics and airspeeds in
this regime before landing. I promptly did this
and found that the Army Air Corps’ aircraft
showed an abrupt wing dropping on either
side with just a little rudder angle; this would
be accompanied by a prompt and rapid roll in
either direction followed by an altitude loss of
several thousand feet until a 25mph increase in
recovery airspeed had been attained. My only
thought was that this is an inferior Army Air
Corps airplane with unacceptable stall charac-
teristics. That damn fool Army Air Corps just
added acres of additional cement to its runways
to cope with these higher landing speeds.
Grumman engineers just wouldn’t tolerate
such wretched handling qualities. The P-40 had
talked loudly to me, but my youthful arrogance
closed my mind and ears.
I then tried loops and slow rolls. Loops were
easy because the P-40 had a lot of acceleration
power at low altitude, and it held it well going
over the top of the loop. My first slow roll
should have been an eye-opener, too. The P-40
snap-rolled for the last half of the supposedly
controlled slow roll without any intention on
my part for it to do so. I assumed that my con-
trol coordination was poor. I did several more

WW II Fighters 11
CURTISS P-40 WARHAWK
August 1943: P-40M-1 of
the 44th Fighter Squadron
on Munda Field, New Georgia,
Solomon Islands. The 18th
Fighter Group arrived when
the Marines had secured this
former Japanese airfield. This
P-40 had a 75-gallon drop
tank that extended its range
by about 150 miles. (Photo
courtesy of the USAAF, via
Corky Meyer)
12 FlightJournal.com
slow rolls at a higher airspeed and found that I
had mastered the beast. The airplane had now
shouted to me twice, but I still had not listened.
At age 23, you know more about everything
than God himself.
I then checked cruise performance and found
it to be about 30mph higher than the Hellcat’s;
this furthered my delight in flying the Warhawk.
The stabilities and balance of control forces
about the aileron, rudder, and elevator axes were
satisfactory, but I was still unhappy about the
lack of forward visibility at cruising speeds.
I had filled my kneepad card with many
numbers (which is a sign of a great test pilot!),
so I proceeded back to the Grumman Bethpage
airport. During my final approach, another test
pilot buzzed the runway in a Hellcat going quite
quickly under me and in the same direction.
This was not an unusual occurrence in those
days. The war effort syndrome allowed test
pilots to get away with murder when it came to
breaking the CAA (now FAA) rules.
Having previously determined that the
Warhawk had much better power/thrust accel-
eration than the Hellcat, I decided to retract the
wheels and flaps and give it a go at a rat race
(also the result of the war-effort syndrome). I
pushed the throttle forward without breaking
the two wires that I had previously noted, and
I pulled up into a steep fighter climb as the
 The red-spinner Death’s Head
P-40Ns of the 80th Fighter
Group all had 75-gallon
external drop tanks installed
because of the long distances
they were required to fly over
water between the Solomon
Islands. In 1944, their mission
was to locate the retreat-
ing Imperial Japanese Army.
Many P-40s later carried
three 75-gallon drop tanks for
an even longer range. (Photo
courtesy of the USAAF, via
Corky Meyer)

wheels and flaps retracted. senses, retarded the throttle, and climbed to
At about 700 feet, my exuberance ended 1,500 feet. I immediately turned back to the air-
most abruptly when the airplane stalled unex- port because the sun had almost set and it was
pectedly and violently with my controls still rapidly getting dark.
in neutral. As I tried to right the aircraft, the If I had been a test pilot of greater experi-
control stick and rudder pedals flopped loosely ence, I might have related in this reminiscence
around the cockpit, and the airplane snapped that I had been calm; had remembered all the
back and forth in a roll. Those are the last events instructions in the handbook about spins; had
I remember clearly. The airplane shook violently. jotted meaningful notes about the incident; and
It then started into a spin, still shaking like a had made a nonchalant, smooth three-point
dog after a bath. I could see the approaching landing. But I was totally without any of these
hangars with great clarity and a strange detach- movie-star proclivities. I was stupefied. I flew
ment. I was stupefied and mesmerized, and I around the airport without calling the tower Col. Bruce Holloway with his
seemed to be sitting on the sidelines and watch- and talked to myself like a Dutch uncle. I said, mechanic and his P-40E. He
ing this unbelievable panorama unfold. My “You miserable, stupid son of a bitch. You became CO of the 23rd Fighter
Group in China, where he shot
mind was now blank as to which action I should can’t land this airplane. You are running out
down 13 Japanese aircraft.
take. It just couldn’t be happening to me! of gas. It is getting dark and you have to land (Photo courtesy of the USAAF,
The next thing I remember was that I was this airplane…,” etc. My conversation was also via Corky Meyer)
level at 50 feet above the potato
fields west of the Grumman airport
and that the ground was whizzing
by at a great speed. Mentally, I was
still only riding, not flying, this
P-40. I was not flying it because
the spin it had just done was
completely out of my frame of
reference, even in nightmares. I
eventually noted that the throttle
had been pushed full forward and
had broken both aluminum wires,
and the engine was straining with
much more power than I had
heard or felt during takeoff. I was
now in War Emergency Power.
After a few seconds, I came to my

WW II Fighters 13
CURTISS P-40 WARHAWK

PROJECT 19 THE SECRET OF THE

P-40’S LONG WW II COMBAT LIFE
In March 1941, German Field Marshal Erwin
Rommel and his famous Panzer, Afrika Ko-
rps were directed by Adolf Hitler to join the
almost defeated Italian army that was fight-
ing the British in Gazala, North Africa, 1,100
miles west of Cairo, Egypt. The British had
exhausted their fighter forces in the Battle
of Britain and didn’t have any more fighter or
bomber aircraft to send to their beleaguered
forces in Africa.
The British had failed to set up an RAF P-40
maintenance and overhaul base in Ethiopia
because of a very critical shortage of Brit-
ish technicians and equipment. In dire need,
Prime Minister Winston Churchill called Presi-
dent Roosevelt in August 1941 and asked him
to set up a secret all-American base there for
the primary purpose of assembling and repair-
ing vitally needed new and battle-weary RAF
Curtiss P-40 Kittyhawks and B-24 Liberator
bombers that the United States was sending
in large numbers for the British effort in Africa.
When Field Marshal Rommel’s army in El
Alamein was threatening the British head-
quarters, which was only 70 miles from Cairo,
Egypt, Churchill knew that if the Germans
April 1942: This stack of new P-40s was to be assem-
bled and test-flown for delivery to the RAF. This was a
typical sight for the 2,500-plus American workers of
the new secret Project 19 when they arrived in Gura,
Ethiopia. They were assigned to begin the overhaul and
repair of hundreds of planes that would be sent back to
RAF fighting squadrons. (Photo courtesy of the USAAC,
via Corky Meyer)
conquered Egypt,
the Suez Canal
would be closed to
the Allies and the
Germans would then A short stretch of the flightline at the old Italian flying field used by Project 19. The
Allied air forces that fought in North Africa used this secret operation. (Photo cour-
be able to launch a tesy of the USAAC, via Corky Meyer)
campaign against
the most important British possession: India. Communists. All transport and bomber air-
Roosevelt agreed that the Suez Canal craft were flown out.
was vital. What was called “Project 19” was More than 1,000 second-class American
managed by Douglas Aircraft and had more P-40 fighters and many other war-weary
than 2,500 technicians and other personnel. combat aircraft were given first-class treat-
A complete industrial city would be delivered ment near the battles but were a long way
secretly to Ethiopia from the United States. from home.
During the 23 months Project 19 was in
operation, more than 750 new and war-weary
P-40s and Liberators of the RAF, South Af-
rican Air Force, Royal Australian Air Force,
and USAAF were run through this fabulous
operation and immediately returned to their
squadrons for further action. This operation
not only assembled new aircraft and repaired
battle-damaged ones but also overhauled
Allison and Pratt & Whitney engines, Curtiss
Electric propellers, and all other required air-
craft accessories. Personnel melted several
hundred tons of aluminum into 50-pound
ingots from crash-damaged enemy and This aerial photograph shows about half of the
friendly aircraft and shipped it back to the operations/housing area set up for Project 19 in Gura,
United States. At the end of its operation, Ethiopia. With more than 2,500 personnel, this was a
Project 19 was overhauling other types of complete industrial city for three years. Its total cost
aircraft such as USAAC B-17, B-25, and to the U.S. government was $61,948,451.42. (Photo
courtesy of the USAAC, via Corky Meyer)
B-26 bombers.
After Field Marshal Rommel was totally Author’s note: My cousin, Armin H. Meyer,
defeated in Africa in 1943, the USAAF gave me a copy of John Swancara’s book,
took over Project 19 management on Project 19: A Mission Most Secret. Armin was
November 7, 1943. Now, as Project Cedar, with Project 19 for three years as an aircraft
it was moved to the Hindustan Aircraft Co. radio and tower operator until he joined the
in Bangalore, India, and then moved to State Department and ran up the chain, even-
Kweillin, China, to continue its work under tually become ambassador to Lebanon, Iran,
the USAAF military cognizance until April and Japan. Bob Law, who was also with Proj-
1946, when it was disbanded. All the fight- ect 19 and Project Cedar in India and China
ers in China were destroyed so that they until it was closed in 1946, also gave me a
wouldn’t end up in the hands of the Chinese great deal of information.

sprinkled with words that impugned the legality
of my birth and my parents’ marital status.
After too many circuits of the field, I humbly
called the tower and was given landing clear-
ance. They were charitable and didn’t give
an embarrassing commentary. I made a long,
airline-style approach at a speed that was con-
siderably higher than my flight notes indicated
would be required, and I landed without further
ado. I taxied back to the parking area where all
the pilots were gathered. They had seen my spin
and wanted to see the color of my face and pants
after that farce. When the propeller stopped
rotating, the airplane and I continued to shake.
After my shaking had ceased, I hoped that I
would be able to stand on my own two feet. I got
out to the total silence of the pilot mob.
Later, they told me that I had made a turn
and a half spin, gone down below the hangar
roof on the far side of the airport and then left
the area like a bat out of hell. I had no recollec-
tion of the number of turns in that spin.
That flight was the most “impressive” of my
test-pilot career. I learned to listen carefully to
airplanes for everything they had to tell me. I
also became a born-again Christian immediately
after that 30-second horror event before my
landing.
A few weeks later, H. A. Thomas, chief test
pilot of the P-40 program at the Buffalo, New
York, Curtiss plant, called me to ask whether
what he had just heard about my spin was true,

14 FlightJournal.com
and would I please explain just how I recovered FAST-FORWARD 55 YEARS
from it. I told him it was true and that 16 Grum-
man test pilots had witnessed the deed, and
totally unbeknown to me, I had used full War
Emergency Power throttle for recovery. There
was silence for several moments. Thomas then
said that this was the only episode on record of
a P-40’s spinning below 5,000 feet altitude with
its pilot living to tell the tale. He then said (as
I had learned when discussing this event with
Grumman aerodynamicists) that power is very
destabilizing and that an increase in power
should have increased the spin’s severity instead
of assisting the recovery. However wrong it may
be, I still think that the fantastic acceleration
thrust of the Allison engine at War Emergency
Power brought the airplane out of the spin. But
I’ll never know. The P-40B sits after its crash with the Stinson SR-8D. The P-40 pilot wasn’t hurt, but his propeller
I was the spin-demonstration pilot for eight blades cut the wing off the Stinson, killed the instructor, maimed two students, and left the third
Grumman fighters afterward. I treated them all student unhurt. I was scheduled to be one of the student pilots that day, but I was half an hour late;
another student pilot took my place. (Photo courtesy of Bob Fogg, via Corky Meyer)
with great respect and humility, and with both
ears wide open. The P-40 was a potent teacher.
It taught me several things that I never forgot— I received a letter dated February 10, 1998, from Bob Fogg. He says, “The
most important, to listen to an airplane “talk,” last Flight Journal was topped by your P-40 story regarding August 12, 1941,
and it made me jump the chocks! That date was my 15th birthday, and I
even though it may just whisper; no matter how
was at Boston Airport for the day to fly with my dad in a Curtiss A-12 attack
impressive your total time is, those hours give
aircraft that the Reserves were flying at that time. My father was flying with
you no license to be arrogant with something Inter City Airlines at East Boston Airport, but he also kept his time current
that has no visible means of support! with the Reserves.
Mel Gough, who was the chief test pilot at “I watched the P-40 on its takeoff that day and only saw the Stinson
NACA (now NASA) from the 1930s through the at the last moment, when they collided and the P-40 spun around and slid
1950s, came to Grumman a few weeks after the backward, leaving the Stinson completely jackknifed. Obviously, this was
incident to hear my P-40 spin story from the a great shock to me as it must have been to you and your friends. Corky, I
“horse’s ass.” After our discussion, he asked me went out to the accident site and went within 20 feet, taking photographs
how I felt flying a new fighter for the first time. of both wrecked ships.
“It is amazing how the time has flown since that day. I wanted you to
I was stating the usual test-pilot malarkey when
know that there is someone else still alive who saw your almost demise.”
he interrupted me and said, “You’re overdoing
it, Corky. On a first flight, I retract the landing Sincerely,
gear after gaining a little altitude, fly for several Bob Fogg Jr.
minutes more, roll my eyeballs, and, if noth-
ing happens, I move the stick very slowly.” I At around the same time, I received another letter from an Inter City Airline
changed my flight-evaluation program after that mechanic who was having his lunch outside and saw the crash. Maybe I do
to match his wisdom, and I stuck with it for the still remember a few “unadulterated” facts after all these years.
rest of my career.
Col. Robert Scott titled his great fighter-pilot
book, God Is My Co-pilot. In the P-40 spin, He August 12, 1941:
was my pilot. I have been fortunate since then The wingless
cabin of the SR-8D
to have Him keep His hand on the controls for Stinson Reliant that
the rest of my life. was hit by a USAAC
Curtiss P-40B dur-
ing its takeoff in the
Epilogue middle of the East
We did hear a few details of the rest of the three Boston airport. The
other well-traveled, loaned Army Air Forces P-40B’s propeller
destroyed the cabin
fighter’s travails. The P-39 Airacobra was wiped
area. (Photo cour-
out (not fatally) before it ever came to Grum- tesy of Bob Fogg,
man, and the P-38 Lightning and P-40 Warhawk via Corky Meyer)
met the same fate after they had visited us. From
the four aircraft sent out as missionaries to the
Navy’s unwashed aircraft builders, the U.S. Army
Air Corps recovered only the P-51B. It’s inter-
esting that the Hellcat, Wildcat, Avenger, and
Corsair all made the rounds and were returned
unharmed to the Navy. J

WW II Fighters 15
Flying
the
THE JUG AND I BY CORKY MEYER
P-47

I was introduced to the Republic P-47 Thunderbolt in a most unique

way—by the Grumman Hellcat. One option in Grumman’s F6F-3 Hellcat proposal
to the Navy on June 30, 1941, was a turbo-supercharged, high-altitude version.
This suggestion came from Grumman chief engineer Bob Hall; he based it on
his experience of test flying the U.S. Army Air Corps (USAAC) prototype turbo-
supercharged Grumman XP-50 (a competitor of the XP-38) a month before. He
attained the exceptional speed of 431mph at 31,000 feet.

16 FlightJournal.com
A restored P-47D, probably a -40, is painted to represent a -25-RA model from the 61 FS,
56 FG. The -40 model was the first to have the dorsal fin factory-fitted, while -30 models
were retrofitted with the fin in the field. (Photo by Xavier Méal)

WW II Fighters 17
FLYING THE P-47
Capt. Arthur Scramm, a
345 FS, 350 FG pilot, took
this picture while flying in
the Group’s new P-47Ds.
They generally flew sorties
as flying artillerymen on
bombing sorties. On this flight,
they had two 500-pound
bombs on the wing stations
and a 110-gallon centerline
fuel tank. (Photo by Arthur
Scramm, courtesy of Warren
Bodie and Corky Meyer).
At war’s end, my mentor, Republic chief test pilot Carl Bellinger, stands next to a P-47N-25RE. Owing to the nearness of our two flight-test operations, Carl and I
exchanged flight-test procedures, safety equipment, and instrumentation for more than 20 years. He went on to fly virtually all P/F-84 jet models, the XF-91, and
various models of the F-105. Carl was killed in an automobile accident in 1986. (Photo by Republic Aviation, courtesy of Warren Bodie and Corky Meyer)
18 FlightJournal.com
and the flight characteristics of
the high-wing-loading fighter (the
P-47’s wing loading was 48 pounds
per square foot; the Hellcat’s was
36 pounds per square foot). He
warned me which aerobatic maneu-
vers I should not attempt in the
P-47: spins, low-altitude split-S
maneuvers (a half-roll followed
by a half-loop), and slow rolls at
airspeeds of below 150mph. The
Hellcat allowed them because of its
much lower wing loading.
Carl didn’t have to convince me
about low-altitude split-Ss: during
the winter of 1943, I saw the five
holes in the ice of Long Island’s
Great South Bay that were the result
of USAAC P-47B pilots following
their leader in a split-S maneuver
below 15,000 feet. His very detailed
explanations were most informa-
tive to a young and “invulnerable”
In June 1943, I was selected to be the test pilot (euphemism for “egocentric”) test pilot who was
still in the highly overconfident and dangerous
for the turbocharged Hellcat, but there was one
fly in the ointment: I had never flown with a 500-hour flight-time range.
turbocharger. To give me the required turbo- Four particularly interesting notations in the
supercharger training, Bob Hall arranged for me pilot’s handbook applied to all pilots—but not, I
to spend a week flying the P-47 Thunderbolt at was sure, to me:
nearby Republic Aviation. I made six most inter- 1. Never make turns at less than 150mph in the
esting flights, one of which was of the type I’m landing pattern.
2. Don’t stall; don’t ever stall; never, ever stall;
glad didn’t happen too often.
My mentor at Republic was chief production these are the three rules for a forced landing.
test pilot Carl Bellinger. He was most amiable 3. Spin recoveries. Remember this. When your
and spent much time on educating me about the airplane goes out of control or is out of control at
rather complicated turbo-supercharging system below 4,000 feet, jump!
4. Under no circumstances do a split-S at less than
15,000 feet with the power on. The speed builds
up at a dizzying rate. If started at speeds of more
than 250mph, you can lose as much as 15,000 feet
before you can complete a recovery.
These admonishments were probably written
into the handbook because of the 56th Fighter
Group’s high accident rate. It was the first USAAC
group to fly the Thunderbolt, and it lost 13 pilots
and 41 aircraft during training at Mitchel Field,
New York, before leaving for Europe.
The P-47 has often been written of as being “tre-
mendous” in size. True, it was considerably bigger
than the Bell P-39 and Curtiss P-40, but to me, it
wasn’t much bigger than the Hellcat because it
had the same wingspan and was only 3 feet lon-
ger. I was soon to find out that its much greater
weight—and consequent 130 percent higher wing
loading—would soon make me a respectful P-47B
test pilot.
Flying the Jug
The ground walk-around P-47B check was similar
to the Hellcat’s, except that you had to get down
on one knee and bend over even farther to inspect
the turbo-supercharger, located just ahead of the
tailwheel, for damage and oil leaks.
The cockpit was quite roomy, well laid out,
and comfortable in all seat positions. There were,
however, several small but unique differences.
Production had been given the
go-ahead at Republic before
Pearl Harbor, and P-47Bs
were being pushed out as
quickly as possible in 1942.
But even with expansion of
the Farmingdale, New York,
plant, P-47s also had to be
built in Buffalo at the Curtiss
plant and in Evansville, Indi-
ana, in a factory specifically
built by Republic to manufac-
ture P-47s. A total of 15,683
P-47s were delivered to the
USAAF. (Photo courtesy of Air
Age archives)
The XP-47B and three other
early Thunderbolts had the
autolike door for cockpit
entrance; then, the sliding
canopy on the production
P-47Bs replaced them. Also,
this picture either had the gun
installation airbrushed out for
wartime security reasons, or
they had not been installed
before the aircraft began its
flight tests. The XP-47B’s first
flight, from Republic airfield,
was made by test pilot Lowery
Brabham on May 6, 1941,
and when he climbed out of
the aircraft at the USAAC’s
Mitchel Field, only 20 miles
away, he said, “We’ve hit the
jackpot!” (Photo courtesy of
Stan Piet)
WW II Fighters 19
FLYING THE P-47
Top: Exhaustive tests were
made on a new P-47D-25-RE
at the Armament Test Center,
Eglin, Florida, to determine
its performance with various
external stores. This combina-
tion with three 1,000-pound
bombs was one of the highest
stores loads WW II fighters
could successfully carry.
(Photo by George Calchkoff,
courtesy of Warren Bodie and
Corky Meyer)
Above: Lt. Karl Hallberg
(9th Air Force) returned
from a strike mission with a
500-pound demolition bomb
“hung” on his wing rack.
Unbeknownst to the pilot,
when he touched down, the
bomb fell off its shackles and
exploded. The good news was
that Lt. Hallberg was saved
by the cockpit armor and
the P-47’s sturdy structure.
He soon returned to active
service. (Photo courtesy of
Corky Meyer)
20 FlightJournal.com
The landing-gear handle had a locking lever that
had to be lifted before the pilot could retract the
landing gear. It was installed to prevent the gear
from being accidentally retracted on the ground.
The P-47B had a multiposition lever outboard
of the throttle; to avoid over- or underboosting
the engine manifold pressure, the lever had to
be continually adjusted as altitude and aircraft
power requirements changed. I was told that
the proper management of these two controls
required a lot of attention. The Hellcat’s mechani-
cal supercharger handle (outboard of the throttle)
had three notched positions somewhat like a car’s
stick shift. The handle’s positions were main, low
blower, and high blower, and it was simply moved
at 12,000 and 21,000 feet during the climb.
The P-47B introduced me to the new four-
channel VHF radio. Its much higher frequencies
were a great boon to pilots because, unlike the
Navy’s low-frequency radios, they didn’t suffer
from static interference during bad weather and
thunderstorms. It had four preset channel buttons
and did not have to be manually tuned. What a
delightful cockpit improvement!
Although the P-47B’s nose did not make the
pilot as blind when taxiing it as did the F4U-1D
Corsair’s (which I also flew during this time), the
Jug still had to be S-turned to clear the run-
way. Because of its wide landing gear and
smooth brake operation that wasn’t difficult.
The last cockpit checks included unlock-
ing the ground downlock on the landing-
gear handle, locking the tailwheel, adjust-
ing the throttle and supercharger levers for
a takeoff power of 52 inches of manifold
pressure and 2,700rpm, and calling for
takeoff clearance. Having run through that
list, I was ready to go.
Jug Evaluation
The first obvious difference I noted dur-
ing takeoff was the deep, muffled faraway
exhaust noise that sounded more like that of
a Cadillac than of a fighter. Compared with
that, the Hellcat’s takeoff exhaust racket —
with the exhaust stacks very near the cock-
pit—sounded like an untuned hot rod’s.
The P-47B’s additional gross weight
exceeded the Hellcat’s by 3,000 pounds and
seemed to give it an all-too-disinterested
acceleration rate when it tried to reach
its 125mph takeoff speed. I immediately
thought that Republic’s 5,000-foot runway
was much too short, especially with the
main assembly plant right at the end of
it. A few seconds later, I was pleased that
I had remembered to unlock the ground
landing-gear downlock. Had I not done
this, I would have had to look back into
the cockpit during takeoff to unlock it just
when I wanted to be sure I would clear that
onrushing factory roof. I found that P-47’s
lingering takeoff impressive.
I never did get used to the long wait for the
P-47 to leave the ground. On my first of several
takeoffs, I instinctively looked back at the engine
instruments several times, hoping that the throttle
could be pushed much farther forward. I failed to
ask why they didn’t use partial flap deflection to
shorten its ground run.
The P-47’s best climb speed was 45mph higher
than the Hellcat’s 125mph, and that added to the
long wait required to get away from the earth’s
crust, which seemed to scrape its fuselage bottom.
At 10,000 feet, I felt at home, so I moved the con-
trols more than I moved my eyeballs.
Stall Evaluation
Remembering the pilot’s handbook rebuke as I set
up to do a stall, I very slowly reduced the P-47B’s
airspeed with the flaps and landing gear retracted.
At 120mph, it started to buffet, and at 110, it
stalled. Surprisingly, it had very little wing drop,
so I recovered and rechecked it several times with
similar results. I then tried an accelerated stall at
125mph and found that even when I pulled the
stick fairly hard, its stall was also preceded by a
pronounced buffeting and very little wing drop. It
seemed too good to be true. With the wheels and
flaps down, it again stalled very
gently, and the stall was preceded
by an even stronger buffet warning
and with absolutely no wing drop.
I was amazed because its stall
characteristics were better than
the Hellcat’s, but its stall speed was
21mph higher. I was even more
impressed when I returned from
the flight and inspected the wing’s
leading edge, expecting to find stall
“fixes,” such as a cambered lead-
ing edge or leading-edge spoilers
that would give it these great stall
characteristics. There weren’t any.
The P-47 stalls’ only drawback was
that it required a more rapid and
larger throttle motion during the
recovery to minimize altitude loss. Its heavier wing
loading was quite noticeable during stall recovery.
Cruise Flight Control Harmony
Having acquired a more positive attitude toward
its landing capabilities, I went to max cruise power
of 32 inches manifold pressure and 2,300rpm to
check its stability about all three axes at 250mph.
I found stability in all three cases to be just what
the doctor would have ordered for a fighter: low
but not too low for hands-off flight in moderately
rough air. I also found that the rolling and pitching
stick forces were in the proper ratio for a fighter.
The rudder forces, however, seemed much too high
to allow easy control coordination when turning.
Later in its production cycle, a balance tab was
added to the rudder to reduce forces and ensure
comfortable aileron/rudder coordination in turns.
As my satisfaction with this “Cadillac” increased,
I tried a few mild wingovers and did slow rolls at
well above 150mph! Its ailerons were much more
powerful than the Hellcat’s, and it was beginning
to feel like a fighter. Rapid rolls and/or roll reversals
followed by tight turns were easy to do and were
excellent evasive maneuvers in combat.
With increasing confidence, I decided to make a
quantitative check of its longitudinal maneuvering
forces to 5G at 300mph with my hand stick-force
indicator. In other words, I would see whether I
had to pull harder at higher speeds to get as much
G-force. The results showed 4 1/2 pounds per G—
in the middle of the military requirement of 3 to
8 pounds per G. The P-47 felt reasonably comfort-
able for holding G in air-to-air combat-turning
and bombing-pullout maneuvers. I evaluated it a
year before G-suits were issued to prevent pilots
from blacking out when holding higher turning G
for too long.
Altitude—The P-47’s Greatest Asset
Having previously flown the Hellcat in impromptu
mock dogfights against the P-47B, I knew that
a Hellcat could outturn it but not outrun it. I
decided to check the P-47B out at 25,000 feet to
find out why. I soon found out: The P-47B could
outrun a Hellcat because its turbo-supercharged
engine maintained its sea-level 2,000hp up to and
above 30,000 feet! The Hellcat’s mechanical super-
The first mass-production
fighter designed by Russian
immigrant Alexander Kartveli
for Seversky Aircraft in 1936
was the P-35. More than
200 of them were exported
or sold to the USAAC. This
aircraft was the first in a
line of fighters designed by
Kartveli that spawned the
famous P-47. (Photo courtesy
of Corky Meyer)
Next in line before the P-47
came into being was the P-43,
seen here flying over Wright
Field before the war. (Photo
courtesy of Stan Piet)
WW II Fighters 21
FLYING THE P-47

charger was not as efficient, so

the Hellcat’s maximum power
decreased considerably with
altitude.
Because of its massive size
P-47B “RAZORBACK” and weight, the P-47B’s turbo-
Wingspan: 40 ft. 9 in. supercharger system was in
Length: 35 ft. 5 in. the aft fuselage. It consisted
Powerplant: Pratt & Whitney R-2800-21; 2,000hp of a turbine wheel driven by
Max speed: 429mph @ 27,800 ft. the engine’s exhaust, which
Armament: Eight .50-caliber machine guns
rotated it at a very high rpm.
Range: 550 miles
An air compressor driven by the
turbine wheel compressed the
air coming from the aircraft’s
intake duct system to full sea-
level pressure before returning
it to the engine’s carburetor. In
this way, the P-47 engine’s com-
bustion air was at sea-level pres-
sure, and it could thus maintain
its 2,000 takeoff horsepower to
well above 30,000 feet!
The Hellcat’s three-speed
mechanical supercharger
showed a consistent power
drop-off as its altitude increased;
this was because of the power
loss caused by the high friction
of its two-stage, multiple-gear
air-compressor system. At
10,000 feet, this system could
produce only 1,900hp, and at
25,000 feet, only 1,725. This
difference in available power
above 5,000 feet gave the P-47B
a 54mph-top-speed edge over
P-47D-40 “BUBBLE TOP” the Hellcat.
Wingspan: 40 ft. 9 in. The Thunderbolt’s higher
Length: 36 ft. 1 in. top speed and climbing ability
Powerplant: Pratt & Whitney R-2800-59; was quite apparent as altitude
2,300hp increased. Because of this obvi-
Max speed: 428mph @ 30,000 ft. ous asset, I decided that I would
Armament: Eight .50-caliber machine guns ask a Grumman production test
Range: 475 miles pilot—a former Navy pilot—to
meet me at 25,000 feet the
next day to try a few combat
maneuvers. We squared off by
closing in at more than 700mph
airspeed and then began to
tangle. The Hellcat pilot tried
to turn to evade me, but I was
able to roar past him, pull up
in a wingover, and get right on
his tail. I had an edge because
I had talked to Republic test
pilot Ken Jernstadt—a double
ace American Volunteer Group
(AVG) pilot in China. It seemed
ILLUSTRATION BY LLOYD JONES
too easy—almost as if he had
his wheels down. After several
more, it was obvious that my
P-47’s 300hp advantage, which

22 FlightJournal.com

The P-47C-2-RE model was fitted with a 200-gallon external ferry tank installation that was con-
verted into combat use. This C-2-RE was from the 336 FS, 4 FG, and was based at Dubden, England.
(Photo courtesy of Robert F. Dorr collection)
gave me faster acceleration, was a
big benefit in high-altitude fighting
capability. It seemed as though the
only way a Thunderbolt could be
shot down was if its pilot were asleep
in its comfortable cockpit.
Formation Flight
Characteristics
By my third flight, my throttle/
supercharger coordination was
somewhat more automatic, so I
asked another Republic production
pilot whether he would let me fly
formation with him to see how eas-
ily a wingman would be able to fol-
low his leader as his control motions
increased during simulated combat.
After a few seconds of trying to see
the lead aircraft from a seat position
that was too high and driving myself
wild because my view was blocked
by a horizontal brace in the canopy,
I lowered the seat, and formation fly-
ing became much more comfortable.
The many minute control changes
that are constantly required in for-
mation flight also show the friction
levels in the control systems. As my
leader’s rolling and pitching motions
became faster during simulated
combat, the seemingly frictionless
aileron and elevator controls came
into their own and made wingman
formation flight easy and instinctive.
Advanced Aerobatics
I then tried some loops and Immel-
manns. During my first loop, I didn’t
pull enough G at the entry pull-up,
and I didn’t have enough speed at
the top of the loop to continue it
comfortably. I did have good stall-
warning buffet to let me know that
I was approaching an inverted stall,
so I very gingerly increased back-
pressure and fortunately completed
my first loop without spinning out
at the top. I saw the effects of the
higher wing loading very clearly in
loops. They were fun, but it was clear
that this fighter did not need an
aerobatic capability to shoot down
enemy aircraft. It could do it by pass-
ing fast and diving away to a safe
distance. Because spins were pro-
hibited, I prudently decided not to
try snap rolls because they are really
spins in level flight and can end with
a vertical spin all too easily.
P-47 DEVELOPMENTS
These major development changes in the P-47
fighter series increased its capabilities as fol-
lows: combat range from 575 to 2,000 miles; high
speed from 412 to 473mph; service ceiling from
38,000 to 43,000 feet; gross weight from 12,086
to 20,700 pounds; and external fuel tank and
bomb capacity from 0 to 3,000 pounds.
P-47B: Sliding canopy in place of the XP-47B
cockpit door
P-47C-1: Fuselage lengthened by 8 inches behind
the engine cowl to cure aft center-of-gravity
problems and to facilitate maintenance
P-47C-2: 200-gallon external ferry tank
installation
P-47C-5: Cockpit heater finally installed
P-47D: Enlarged cowl flaps for engine cooling;
increased cockpit and engine armor
P-47D-5: Water injection increased combat power
by 300hp; two-point centerline, 1,000-pound
bomb/fuel-tank rack installed
P-47D-10: Up-rated to a -63 engine with
2,300hp for takeoff; two 1,000-pound wing or
fuel-tank racks; internal fuel increased from
207 to 375 gallons
P-47D-22: Much simplified; larger, 13-foot 2-inch-
diameter Hamilton Standard propeller installed
for performance increase
P-47D-25: Bubble canopy; compressibility
dive-recovery flaps; lead-computing gunsight
installed
P-47D-40: Dorsal fin; 10 HVAR wing-rocket racks
and -59 engine that had 2,430hp with water
injection installed
P-47M: “C” engine with 2,100hp for takeoff and
2,800hp with water injection installed
P-47N: 200 gallons internal fuel in wings and with
wing strength for two external 300-gallon tanks
The XP-47H was specifically
constructed as a flying labora-
tory for testing a new 2,500hp
Chrysler Motor liquid-cooled
inline engine. Only two were
built, and they were converted
from two P-47D-15s with
major modifications to house
the engine. (Photo courtesy of
Robert F. Dorr collection)
WW II Fighters 23
FLYING THE P-47
The YP-47M was a D-30
model fitted with an
R-2800 C, rated at 2,800hp
with water injection. It was
the fastest production Thun-
derbolt, with a top speed of
473mph. (Photo courtesy of
Warren Bodie)
24 FlightJournal.com
Fourth Flight—40,000 Feet
Carl Bellinger suggested that I had enough
low-altitude experience with turbo supercharging
and that during my next flight, I should therefore
climb to 40,000 feet to see how delicately the
turbo supercharger had to be controlled when
climbing to the service ceiling. This was to be
more than an education for me; it was almost a
calamity.
Only a few months earlier, I had made my
first—and only—flight at above 30,000 feet while
climbing the Hellcat’s to its service ceiling of
38,400 feet during its Navy demonstration. I had
done all the necessary ground pre-oxygenation
to reduce the nitrogen in my body and avoid
the very painful body-joint “bends” experienced
above 30,000 feet; I also had the pressurized
breathing mask required for flights at above
30,000 feet.
For this XP-47B flight, I had been ego-lulled into
complacency about pre-oxygenation and the mask
by those who told me that Republic test pilots go
to 40,000 routinely without heeding those two
safety steps. Because the P-47 had a 350-pound
low-pressure system, Republic also used Mine
Safety masks, which Grumman had found most
unreliable. I stupidly accepted the low-pressure
system of the U.S. Army Air Forces (USAAF), and it
soon taught me an invaluable lesson.
I was to climb in one of the two remaining
XP-47Bs. My mentor had told me that the first
XP-47B’s entire tail assembly had come off dur-
ing a high-speed dive and fatally injured test pilot
George Burrell. Republic was still at a loss as to
explain this disaster. This was before much was
known about how high-Mach buffeting could
destroy aircraft tail structures. Before this flight,
Carl reminded me that I should descend from
40,000 feet without exceeding the P-47’s limit
speed—just in case!
I was assured that I wouldn’t have any trouble
with the climb until I was above 30,000 feet, at
which point I might have to level off several times
to cool the engine by opening the cowl flaps
more and picking up airspeed. At 29,000 feet, the
head temperature climbed to the red line at 500°F
(260°C). I dutifully leveled off, opened the cowl
flaps and, after several minutes, the engine had
cooled to about 428°F (220°C), so I climbed again.
The temperature soon rose to the red line, and I
had to cool the engine again at 34,000 feet,
36,000 feet, 38,000 feet, and finally, with almost
no rate of climb left, I made 40,000! As I had been
told, I did have to attend to the turbo-supercharger
lever more often at these higher altitudes. Above
38,000 feet, pre-stall buffeting indicated that the
climbing speed was not far above stalling speed.
I tried to look at my fingernails to see whether
they were turning—the easily visible indication
of oxygen starvation—but I had great difficulty
focusing on them. All of a sudden, it came to me
that I shouldn’t be there any longer without the
proper oxygen mask, so I immediately lowered the
nose. The airspeed built up quickly to the speed
limit, but I wasn’t descending very rapidly.
I thought my mind was working at full tilt, but
I later realized that, if it had been, I would have
closed the cowl flaps, retarded the throttle to idle,
and extended the landing gear to produce enough
drag to descend much more rapidly. By the time I
was down to 35,000 feet, I was giddy because the
excitement of my stupid situation caused me to
hyperventilate. The canopy was fogging over, and
I knew that this might soon make outside visibility
impossible. Eventually, I looked at my fingernails;
they were as blue as the sky! In desperation, I
closed the throttle to hasten my descent.
At 30,000 feet, the canopy had frost on it. I
tried to scrape it off with my fingernails, but it
re-formed immediately, so I stopped and tried to
concentrate on getting down ASAP. Hypoxia was
getting to me, but I didn’t seem to care.
 At 23,000 feet—panic! It started when I noted
that the canopy had iced over completely. To be
sure I was flying the aircraft right side up, I had
to slow the airplane down and open the canopy
slightly. In my dazed condition, it never occurred
to me that I could fly by instruments. I could
now see the horizon for the first time in an all-
too-long time.
At 10,000 feet—almost on the ground, rela-
tively speaking—I slowed the aircraft to 150mph,
opened the canopy fully to melt the inside frost,
took off my soaking-wet mask, breathed fresh air,
and checked my fingernails. They were still blue! I
immediately put my mask back on and turned the
valve to 100 percent oxygen. I then realized—all
too late—that I should simply have increased oxy-
gen flow at 30,000 feet in the climb!
What really got my full attention was the
low-fuel indicator’s flashing red light, which
must have been on for some time because the
fuel indicator showed only 15 gallons of fuel
left. Having flown with fuel gauges that weren’t
accurate at low-fuel readings, I voted to land this
heavy monster as soon as I could. Fortunately,
the landing was the easiest part of this abortive
flight, and it saved me from looking as stupid as I
felt for making the flight in the first place. When
I shut down the engine, the fuel gauge registered
less than 5 gallons.
Reviewing the flight while still shaking and
sweating in the cockpit, I realized that my
guardian angel had worked overtime. My blue
fingernails were still a great reminder of my idi-
otic trip to 40,000 feet without adequate prepa-
ration. This wisdom remained with me for the
rest of my career.
Gunnery
My last P-47B flight at Republic taught me not
to take serious suggestions from straight-faced
test pilots I didn’t know very
well. Grumman didn’t do the
OFFICIAL USAAF P-47
production test firing of the six
COMBAT RECORDS—
.50-caliber guns in its fighters;
ALL THEATERS
this was the Navy’s domain. Sorties flown: 545,575
That’s why I eagerly accepted Enemy aircraft shot down: 3,752,
Carl’s proposal that I do a com- with a kill-to-loss ratio of 4.6:1
plete production test flight, Tons of bombs dropped: 132,482
including test firing the P-47B’s
eight .50-caliber guns. DESTROYED OR DAMAGED
While I was dressing for that Locomotives: 9,000
flight, two Jug test pilots who Rail cars: 86,000
knew about my mission gave Trucks: 68,000
me several seemingly good sug- Armored tanks or cars: 6,000
Horse-drawn vehicles: 60,000
gestions. They said that, before
shooting all eight guns, I should
remove my earphones because
they would be shaken off my head by the violence
of the firing and that I should have the canopy
open to prevent toxic cordite gun gases from
building up in the cockpit and gagging me. Being
a gun-firing neophyte, I thanked them. Carl, who
would also be flying at the same time to test-fire
his guns, asked me whether I had been given any
advice by other Republic test pilots. When I nod-
ded, he laughed and strongly suggested that I keep
the canopy closed, keep my earphones on, and
put as much cotton in my ears as I could before Only two factory-built P-47
firing. Carl was my true mentor! G-15s were produced, and
We fired in a 10-degree dive at a small island tar- they were used as two-seat
trainer aircraft for the P-47.
get in the Atlantic Ocean from an altitude of about For reasons unknown to the
400 feet. I watched Carl fire, and I followed him a author, almost no single-seat
few minutes later. The unbelievable racket of eight fighter had a two-place variant
guns firing scared the hell out of me, and I was for training. I’m sure that train-
ing in two-place fighters would
glad that I had only 20 rounds per gun because I have lowered the accident rate
didn’t release the trigger until long after I pulled of single-seat fighters, but I
out of the dive! I was also amazed that the P-47 remember that getting fight-
ers to the combat areas took
airspeed was slowed as much as 30mph by the top priority over everything
gun-recoil forces when they were fired—so much else at Grumman. (Photo
for almost heeding unsolicited advice. courtesy of Air Age archives)
WW II Fighters 25
FLYING THE P-47
The Republic XP-47J was the
fastest fighter built during
WW II. On August 5, 1944, it
demonstrated a top speed
of 505mph at 30,000 feet.
When its project pilot, Mike
Richie, came to Grumman
after the war, we reminisced
about a day in June 1943 when
we passed each other while
flying in opposite directions
while performing full-power
runs at exactly 25,000 feet at
a closing speed of more than
800mph, with less than 100
feet lateral clearance. (Photo
courtesy of Robert F. Dorr
collection)
26 FlightJournal.com
My Last Jug Flight—
A Brand-new P-47M
In October 1944—a little more than a year later—
at the Joint Army/Navy Fighter Conference at
the Naval Air Test Center, Patuxent River, Mary-
land, I had a chance to evaluate this just-off-the-
production line, pristine model of the Jug to see
which development miracles had been installed
since my flights in the P-47B. By this time, the
P-47 had not only run up an outstanding score of
enemy aircraft shot down but had also gained a
reputation as a great fighter-bomber. It had a lot
going for it as a user-friendly destructive weapon.
I was soon to find out why.
I was interested in evaluating three devel-
opments now in the P-47M. It had the new
360-degree-vision bubble canopy, could climb
to 40,000 feet without stopping to “rest” above
30,000 feet, and had dive-recovery flaps to cure its
former uncontrollable compressibility diving with
no recovery possibility.
The beautifully laid out cockpit had changed
little and I felt right at home in it, but now I had a
pressurized oxygen mask to use.
P-47M Service Ceiling
With the additional power and the increase in
cowl-flap cooling, the P-47M went promptly to
40,000 feet with all of the engine instruments
below their limits and very little need to coordi-
nate the throttle and supercharger handles. During
my checkout, I was told that the turbo-super-
charger now had automatic altitude compensation
and a governor to prevent it from overspeeding.
What an asset this would have been for training—
and especially in combat—had it been available for
early P-47 squadron pilots. No blue fingernails on
this climb.
Diving the P-47M—
No Longer a Deathtrap
I had heard that Republic test pilot Parker Dupouy,
another decorated AVG ace I had met at Republic
in 1943, had dived the P-47 vertically to its maxi-
mum Mach number of .868 and made a successful
dive recovery-flap pullout. His dive also disproved
several USAAC combat pilot’s reports that they
had dived the Jug supersonic. Dupouy’s dive was
61mph faster than the P-47’s compressibility entry
Mach number. To be sure of their operational
availability, I checked out the extension and
retraction of the dive-recovery flaps several times
during the climb. I then fearlessly pushed over
into a 60-degree dive and ran the combined Mach
number/airspeed indicator rapidly up to .80—well
past its compressibility limit Mach number. The
stick expectedly became immovable, and the
aircraft rapidly pitched nose-down. Extending
the dive-recovery flaps provided an instant drag
increase and a stick-free 4G pullout that brought
the aircraft back below its airspeed limit within a
few easy seconds.
To give the reader the combat value of the
new dive-recovery flaps that had been installed on
Thunderbolts and Lightnings to allow steep diving
attacks, Maj. Johannes Steinhoff’s comments in his
book, The Final Hours, about fighting them in the
Luftwaffe’s new Messerschmitt 262 jet fighter are

pertinent. He relates: “The black dots in the cruelly
black sky were Thunderbolts. The Thunderbolts—
American fighters we learned to fear because of
their extraordinary ability to attack in a nose dive—
had spotted easy prey, as they promptly pointed
their noses to the ground. Fahrmann [Steinhoff’s
wingman] tried to get his aircraft into the shelter of
the cloud cover that spread out below him.” Even
in his much faster jet fighter, Fahrmann was shot
down by the Thunderbolts.
Another of Steinhoff’s comments: “The Light-
nings made for the ground in tight spirals. No
use trying to follow them; the Messerschmitt 262
didn’t have dive brakes. It was agony every time;
losing height without picking up so much speed,
my aircraft became uncontrollable.”
My dive-recovery-flaps evaluation reports in
the P-47M and the P-38L Lightning (which I also
flew at the Conference) inspired Grumman engi-
neers to install dive-recovery brakes on the XF8F-1
Bearcat and XF7F-1 Tigercat. I have always won-
dered why the Navy refused to install them on the
Hellcat to reduce the accident rate caused by that
fighter’s being so easily dived into compressibility.
Too many Navy pilots were fatally injured diving
the Hellcat beyond its Mach-number limit.
The Pilot Sits “Outside”
in the P-47M
The bubble canopy was the greatest improvement
for a fighter pilot since the invention of the syn-
chronized, forward-firing machine gun in WW I.
Its unlimited visibility, especially to the rear, was
unbelievable. One could get used to it immediately
on the ground and especially in air combat.
A Republic test pilot warned me that the
bubble canopy had one unacceptable characteristic
they had not yet cured: If the pilot pushed the rud-
der over to half deflection with the landing gear
and flaps down, the rudder forces would decrease
to zero, and without further pilot input, the rudder
would go to full deflection and make the aircraft
fly very much sideways. It also took a very power-
ful push on the opposite rudder pedal to get the
aircraft back to a straight flight path. I was most
interested in this phenomenon. We had noted
the same problem in the XF8F-1 Bearcat in early
flights, but we hadn’t found the solution for it. In
a carrier aircraft, such a lack of rudder control is
absolutely unacceptable. My check demonstrated
this yaw phenomenon very clearly.
I learned a lot from this flight, but I was to
learn the solution to the bubble-canopy directional
problem during my next flight in the P-51D Mus-
tang with its new bubble canopy. North American
engineers had installed a fairly large triangular
dorsal fin on the top of the rear fuselage and the
fin leading edge; this eliminated the yaw problem
from the bubble canopy completely.
As soon as I had flown it back from the Con-
ference, we installed a dorsal fin on the XF8F-1
Bearcat and achieved similar results.
Conclusions
The Thunderbolt was available in large numbers
from 1942 until 1945. It had very few drawbacks.
Its heavy wing loading meant that pilots needed
more flight hours to understand its effects on flight
characteristics, but it offered superb evasive diving
tactics after dive-recovery flaps had been installed.
It was continually developed with improvements
to its turbo control and its performance, and its
external store-carrying capability was increased. Its
structure had a highly respected history of bring-
ing back its pilots and a much lower combat loss
rate per sortie than the P-38 and P-51. Its flight
characteristics—trainerlike stall characteristics in
the combat and landing configurations—gave its
pilots early confidence. It handled many roles and
missions with fabulous destructive capability. Its
combat record was superb.
Epilogue
Because of the wartime pressure to get the Hellcat
into mass production, the XF6F-2 turbo-super-
charged Hellcat did not fly until January 1944.
By this time, the Navy had realized that it didn’t
need a very high-altitude fighter in the Pacific.
Therefore, the XF6F-2 was reworked and delivered
as a standard F6F-3.
Author’s note: I was assisted with this article by avia-
tion historian Warren Bodie’s book, Republic’s P-47
Thunderbolt. I recommend this excellent book for
further information on the P-47’s impressive participa-
tion in all theaters of WW II. J
WW II Fighters 27
Whenever Navy and Marine Corps aviators who flew and fought in
propeller-driven fighters gather, there is always the argument about which
was the better airplane: the “bent-wing bastard,” as we lovingly dubbed
the Chance Vought F4U-lD Corsair, or the Grumman Hellcat? I am sure that
many beers have been consumed and many loud, emotional discussions
have taken place on this subject.

28 FlightJournal.com
 Navy Taste Test …
Hellcat vs.
Corsair
GRUMMAN TEST PILOT
FLIES THE COMPETITION
BY CORKY MEYER

The Planes of Fame Museum’s F4F-5 (flown by

Steve Hinton) and F4U-1A (flown by Ross Diehl)
do their own evaluation test over the skies of
Southern California. (Photo by Budd Davisson)

WW II Fighters 29
NAVY TASTE TEST … HELLCAT VS. CORSAIR
An early production F4U-1
with the fuselage fuel-tank
extension. It is easy to see
the great loss of forward
visibility for the pilot in the
three-point-landing position.
The test pilot in the picture
is Boone Guyton, who did all
of the early testing and Navy
demonstrations in most of
the Corsair development pro-
grams during and after WW II.
(Photo courtesy of Vought)
30 FlightJournal.com
In the desperate climate of WW II, the Navy
decided that the easiest, quickest, and least
costly way to tweak the utmost performance out
of its fighter planes would be to let rival manu-
facturers test the latest versions of one another’s
products. So, in the summer of 1943, the Navy
delivered into Grumman hands the newest Cor-
sair (F4U-lD Buno 17781). I was privileged to be
the project engineering test pilot for the F6F-3
Hellcat at the time.
Grumman’s specific orders from the Navy were
to improve the Hellcat’s speed by 20 knots and
put better ailerons on it so that it would compare
favorably with the incomparable Corsair. We
were motivated by the strongly implied “or else”
in between the lines.
We were also pleased to learn that we had not
been singled out for harassment of our sterling
product when we heard that Chance Vought,
our friendly competitor from the other side of
Long Island Sound, was sent an F6F-3 Hellcat and
ordered to improve the Corsair’s visibility, cock-
pit internal layout, and stall characteristics and
to redesign the landing-gear Oleos (the Corsair
bounced badly on landing). In other words, make
the Corsair fly as well as its friendly competitor,
the Grumman Hellcat.
If the contest between the two airplanes had
been for beauty of design, we would have given
in immediately. Our baby, the Hellcat, was beau-
tiful to us, but in comparison with the graceful
lines of the Corsair, the Hellcat looked more like
the box it came in than a new Navy fighter. We
always used the euphemism “functional look-
ing” instead of “ugly” to describe it.
We were sure that Vought would have a dif-
ficult time meeting the Navy’s demands, as most
of the Corsair’s deficiencies would require major
changes in configuration. We were also steeped
in the tradition that Grummanites could always
make better Navy fighters than Connecticut clam
diggers; thus, our tasks would be accomplished
in a trice. Our performance-improvement chal-
lenge turned out to be much easier than we ever
hoped, but the aileron problem turned out to be
nearly impossible.
The Navy Was Right
As long as we had the enemy in our hangar, we
decided to conduct a witch hunt into its entrails.
In my first flight, I discovered the Corsair did
indeed indicate 20 knots faster and did have
really smooth and powerful ailerons compared
with our Hellcat’s. But as we had heard and
as was completely obvious, the cockpit was
wretched from many standpoints. The most glar-
ing deficiency was the absence of a cockpit floor!
Behind the rudder pedals, only two small heel
panels offered any protection against dropping a
pencil, a chart, or earphones, etc., into a 3-foot-
deep, yawning black hole. Consider the havoc
this would cause if the pilot’s relief tube dropped
down there on a very, very long mission!
To simplify the evaluation and reduce data,
we decided to test-fly the Hellcat and the Corsair
in close formation. Instead of comparing com-
plex calculations, performance could then be
compared directly at the critical altitudes of the
main stage, high and low blower altitudes of the
engine’s superchargers, and from cruise to high-
speed level flight with water injection. We also
included some formation dives to learn which
airplane was the slickest.
Performance Almost Equal
Except for the Corsair being 20 knots faster than
the Hellcat in the main, sea-level, supercharger
stage, both fighters had almost exactly the
same speed at the low and high blower stages
from 5,000 feet altitude up to service ceiling! In
essence, they had the same performance. Our for-
mation flights showed that both airplanes (with
similar power settings) were in closely stabilized
formation at all altitudes tested above 5,000 feet.
Sometimes, the Corsair would slowly gain a lead
of 100 to 200 feet after five minutes of stabilized
power flight, and sometimes, the Hellcat would
do the same. Considering that both airplanes had
the same engine, propeller, gross weight, wing-
span, etc., they should have had about the same
performance. We did notice that during these
runs, the Corsair always had about a 20-knot
indicated airspeed (IAS) advantage! We didn’t
realize just how embarrassing it would be to solve
that dilemma.
The reason the Corsair was faster in the main
stage blower was that its engine and carburetor
were provided with ram air coming in directly
from the forward-facing wing duct, whereas the
Hellcat had the carburetor air coming in from
the accessory compartment of the fuselage just
behind the engine, with no ram air effect. Our
airplane was getting carburetor air at the same
pressure as it would have were it motionless on
the ground, and the Corsair was getting carbure-
tor air supercharged by the speed of the airplane
giving it more power (speed) in the main stage
blower. In both aircraft, however, the designs
were similar in that they provided ram air to the
low and high blower stages. Our engineering
department defended its position because taking
the warmer air for the main stage blower would
prevent inadvertent carburetor-icing engine fail-
ures. Many Wildcats that had ram air in the main
stage like the Corsair were lost because pilots
failed to take precautions in time to avert this
type of disaster. The Hellcat design was reviewed
and approved by the Navy. I had had a carbure-
tor-icing accident during final approach on my
first flight in a Wildcat a few months previously;
it resulted in my first deadstick landing and a
vertical ground loop. I therefore heartily agreed
with the Navy’s decision.
IAS Performance Equalized,
the Hard Way
After noting the 20 knots IAS difference that
had caused all the “lower performance” ruckus
for our Hellcat, we eagerly decided to change
the airspeed system so that it would read evenly
with the Corsair when they were in formation.
We had taken a lot of flak from all who had
flown both airplanes (but not in formation), and
therefore, everybody “knew” that the Hellcat
was inferior in high-speed performance. We
liked our simple and less complicated airspeed
system with the static and dynamic orifices on
the same boom, but we decided to go whole hog
and put the static orifice on the fuselage (like
the Corsair) to tailor the system to read 20 knots
higher. We tried several orifice locations to get
the required reading. After I had done a thor-
ough testing of the final system over the entire
flight envelope—or so I thought—I proudly
flew the airplane to the Naval Air Test Center at
Patuxent, Maryland, for an evaluation. We soon
found out that we had not purloined the Corsair
airspeed system design thoroughly enough.
We soon received the Navy’s glowing report
of the new system; it went on to say that the Air
Test Center had never tested an airplane with
such remarkable low-speed performance in its
entire history. They found that in a left side slip
The Grumman XF6F-6 that caused such a furor in Grumman management circles in late 1944.
This airplane was a competitor of both the Corsair XF4U-4 and the Grumman XF8F-l Bearcat.
They had the same engine and propeller, and that made them about equal in performance. (Photo
courtesy of Grumman History Center)
The hellcaT/corsair fracas
conTinued in Grumman
The F4U-4 was blessed with the more powerful Pratt & Whitney R-2800-34W,
which gave it a great boost in high-speed performance. This provided the neces-
sary edge over the newer Japanese fighters that were coming into squadrons
when the F4U-4 arrived in the Pacific Theater.
Grumman also had a version of the Hellcat, the XF6F-6, with the same engine,
and from what we learned in our 1943 evaluation, it demonstrated a comparable
high-speed performance to the F4U-4 model Corsair’s.
The F6F-6 Hellcat caused an interesting internal fracas on “mahogany row” in
Grumman headquarters. Our very capable director of production, George Titter-
ton, wanted to put the F6F-6 into production. Bob Hall, director of experimental,
who had flown the Focke-Wulf 190 in 1943 and was very impressed with that air-
plane, wanted to put the 445mph XF8F-1 Bearcat into production. The brouhaha
went up the line to Mr. Grumman (he was the only person in Grumman who wasn’t
called by his first name or a nickname), and he took it up with the Navy. The deci-
sion, as we all know, was made for F8F-1 production. Although the XF6F-6 was
abandoned, the F6F-5 Hellcat continued in production throughout the remainder
of the war. The Navy made a wise decision by having both the F6F-5 continue
production and the F4U-4 start squadrons operations as a backup for the yet
unproven Bearcat—the Navy’s third option.
WW II Fighters 31
NAVY TASTE TEST … HELLCAT VS. CORSAIR
This Hellcat F6F-3 Bu. No.
25881 was the prototype
F6F-5 that Grumman flew for
many performance tests and
to which it made numerous
aileron changes to improve
roll performance. You can see
the full-vision sliding canopy
and windshield that were part
of the improvement program.
The author is in the cockpit.
(Photo courtesy of Grumman)
32 FlightJournal.com
with the wheels and flaps extended, the Hellcat
could fly at zero airspeed. Wonder of wonders—
Grumman led the industry again! Upon re-evalu-
ation, we found that the engineers, inexperienced
with flush static airspeed systems, had designed
ours with only one orifice on the left side of the
airplane, and it was very unbalanced with the
flaps down. As the senior engineering test pilot, I
was in deep doo-doo for not testing the new sys-
tem in all side-slip conditions. A dual-orifice sys-
tem way behind the lowered flaps (similar to the
Corsair’s) finally provided a satisfactory means to
give the Hellcat a cockpit IAS reading comparable
to the vaunted Corsair’s. That was the last we
heard of the Hellcat’s performance gap with the
Corsair. Performance case closed.
Hellcat Ailerons Improved—
The NACA Way
During this time, our flight-control engineers
designed all kinds of aileron contours and shapes.
We tested them to their limits but to no avail. We
just could not get the same delightful low forces
and high rolling performance as the Corsair had
so ably demonstrated. We eventually realized that
the high dihedral angle of the Hellcat’s wing pro-
duced exceptionally high lateral stability, which
was the cause of the low rolling rate of our aile-
rons. To change the dihedral of the wing meant
completely redesigning the complicated wing-
fold mechanism where the dihedral angle of the
wing was formed. That was a real no-no in war-
time production. We even went as far as making
an exact set of molded plywood ailerons to the
Corsair’s contours, but we met with zero success.
The very low lateral stability that we measured
in the Corsair gave its ailerons great power and
produced the fabulous rolling rate. They were
simply not fighting as much inherent lateral
stability as we were. We finally incorporated the
newly invented NACA spring tab for the aileron;
it did the trick by lowering the aileron stick
forces over 50 percent, thus allowing the pilot to
get full aileron deflections at speeds of 100 knots
faster than he could before. Navy pilots agreed
that the spring-tab ailerons did close the rolling
performance gap of the two competitors.
To everybody’s happiness (except that of the
Japanese), these ailerons were introduced on the
F6F-5 early in 1944. To further increase Japanese
joy, we retrofitted many of the 3,000-plus F6F-3s
that had been delivered to the Navy without
spring-tab ailerons with spring tabs.
On one flight during full-power performance
testing at 25,000 feet, I had the chance to see just
what the practical benefits of the Corsair’s low
lateral stability would be in an emergency. Pat
Gallo, one of our other experimental test pilots,
was flying the Corsair; I was flying the Hellcat.
We were at full power heading toward Bermuda
when I noticed that Pat no longer answered
my radio calls. I was trying to remind him to
check his estimate of the differences between
our speeds. When I finally passed his Corsair, I
saw him peering at me very glassy-eyed, in a real
daze. I also noted that he was wearing one of the
The greaT hellcaT/corsair
producTion race
B
oth Chance Vought and Grumman were
given many Navy E (for “Excellence”) cita-
tions for production during WW II. And,
indeed, they both did produce a large quantity of
excellent Navy fighters.
Ten Hellcats were delivered in 1942, just six
months after the first flight of the XF6F-3. Grum-
man delivered 2,547 Hellcats in 1943—enough to
fill the needs of all the fast-attack carrier task
forces. Grumman set the record for the great-
est number of aircraft delivered by one company
when it delivered 664 aircraft during March 1944.
This beat North American, which had led the pack
the month before with its P-51 production record.
In total, Grumman delivered 12,275 aircraft by
November 1945, when the line was shut down.
The XF4U-1 flew on May 29, 1940. Because of
its carrier problems, the first Corsairs arrived
at Guadalcanal in February 1943 as land-based
Marine squadron aircraft. Vought, with the help of
Brewster and Goodyear, delivered 11,418 Corsairs
during that same period in WW II. Corsair produc-
tion continued through the Korean War. The last
Corsair, an F4U-7, was delivered on Christmas Eve
of 1952, completing a total of 12,571 aircraft.
One should look into the differences in the
production background of the two organizations
to see why Grumman, as one company producing
four other types of aircraft, could outdeliver—both
in production rate and quantity—a combination of
three other capable aircraft manufacturers con- The F4U-1 production line on December 23, 1942. The Hellcat had approximately twice as many aircraft on
its production line on this date, even though the first experimental Hellcat flew two years and one month
centrating on only one design. later than the first experimental Corsair. The Hellcat was a much simpler airplane to manufacture than the
The Corsair series had a much more sophis- Corsair. (Photo courtesy of Vought)
ticated structure than the Hellcat. It had a very
complicated, double-dihedral gull-wing center section and a Co., however, was able to gear up and deliver 4,006 Corsairs
fuselage that had many more bulkheads than the Hellcat. It had before the end of the war.
a double-compound-curve fuselage and wing skins that were It took the three companies of the Vought team seven months
much more expensive and time-consuming to manufacture and longer to deliver 11,418 Corsairs than it took Grumman to build
install than flat skins. 12,275 Hellcats. To give one an appreciation of the rate of pro-
The entire structure was flush-riveted throughout. The Hellcat duction per month in 1944, all three companies that produced
had flat skins everywhere except for the engine cowl. It had round- Corsairs delivered an average of 448 per month. Grumman deliv-
head rivets, which took half the time to install and buck smoothly, ered an average of 511 per month—still, a lot of great airplanes
and a very simple wing and fuel tank/wing center section. just when needed.
The real reason Grumman was able to deliver 2,547 airplanes Adm. Metzger, the director of the fighter desk at the Navy
in 1943 after delivering only 10 airplanes in 1942 was that, in Bureau of Aeronautics during the war, was quoted as saying that
1941 and 1942, it was building the Wildcat and Avenger designed the production capability of Grumman and the practical simplic-
to the same structural philosophy as the oncoming Hellcat. ity of the Hellcat’s construction allowed the Navy to purchase
Those planes also used the same wing-fold design. Together, Hellcats at a rate of five for the same price as three Corsairs.
the Avenger and the Wildcat were built at a rate of over 400 per That the Grumman portion of the airplane cost the Navy only
month at Grumman as the Hellcat was coming up to speed on $35,000 is impressive in today’s context because that money
the same production line. To get the necessary production floor probably wouldn’t buy a page change in a pilot’s flight manual for
space, both the Wildcat and the Avenger programs were in a the F-18 Hornet!
planned phaseout from Grumman Bethpage to General Motors at In spite of the production rates, prices, flight characteris-
Linden and Trenton, New Jersey, respectively. Having that highly tics, etc., there are two statistics in the final tally that tell an
skilled workforce at Grumman was indispensable in reducing interesting story: the number of enemy aircraft shot down and
the production learning curve as fast as Grumman did to ensure the kill-to-loss ratio in combat. Navy records show that Hellcats
such speedy delivery of Hellcats to the Fleet. shot down 5,155 Japanese aircraft and had a kill-to-loss ratio
By contrast, Vought had no previous production experience in of 19 to one. The same records show that Corsairs shot down
the highly sophisticated design philosophy of the complicated 2,140 Japanese aircraft and had a kill-to-loss ratio of 11 to one.
F4U-1 structure, let alone the coming buildup of the high rates of These statistics, however, do not reflect the fabulous success of
production that were required for the Pacific War. the Corsair in its ground-support role during the island-hopping
The Brewster Co. was a disaster as a producer and was closed mopping-up required by the Army, Navy, and Marines in conquer-
down in 1944, after delivering only 738 Corsairs. The Goodyear ing the chain of islands leading to Japan.

WW II Fighters 33
NAVY TASTE TEST … HELLCAT VS. CORSAIR

EnginE supErcharging
T
he non-supercharged
engines used in
fighters in the late
’20s had induction air
flowing directly from a
duct in the nose of the air-
craft into the carburetor.
When an aircraft gained
altitude, the thinner air
was insufficient to main-
tain the sea-level-rated
horsepower of these
engines, so performance
decreased as the altitude
increased. The aircraft
had a service ceiling of
14,000 to 18,000 feet
(depending on the air den-
sity), and level-flight high
speeds decreased propor-
tionally with altitude.
Because the attain-
ment of a high altitude is
so important to fighter
aircraft, superchargers
were added to engine
induction systems in
the mid- to late ’30s.
These were single-stage
compressors geared to
the engine crankshaft; Plane handlers hook a catapult harness up to an F4U-1D Corsair aircraft aboard the Cape Gloucester escort carrier during operations off
they rotated at high rpm the coast of Japan on September 8, l945. (Photo courtesy of USMC)
and provided the engine
carburetor with greater than sea-level pressures. This produced a altitudes to over 30,000 feet while increasing level-flight per-
marked increase in performance (compared with standard aircraft formance to 325mph. Because the fuel/air mixture was so highly
engines of the day). These installations were dependent on the care- compressed when the two stages (high and low) were added to the
ful control of the allowable carburetor air temperatures, which were main stage, large radiators/intercoolers were needed to cool the
higher because of the heated compressed air. They also depended air going into the carburetor; this prevented detonation and pre-
on increases in fuel-octane levels. Superchargers allowed military ignition, which would ruin an engine rapidly. Octane limits were now
aircraft of the late ’30s to have a service ceiling of around required to be as high as 145. Fortunately, the United States was
23,000 feet and commensurate increases in level-flight speed way ahead of its enemies in developing octane ratings over 100. This
(compared with non-supercharged aircraft). new supercharger now required a three-position handle next to the
As supercharging came of age, engineers decided to put a gear- throttle. The handle had “Main,” “Low,” and “High” inscribed on it and
shift arrangement on them; it was actuated similarly to a gear shift was shifted as the altitude requirements dictated.
in an automobile. This gave two increases in compressor speeds to The Hellcat and Corsair were both equipped with the same
the supercharger and thereby increased aircraft operating service- R-2800 engines. Their level-flight performance now exceeded
ceiling altitudes to 20,000 to 24,000 feet. Level-flight speeds 400mph, and they had service ceilings of 38,000 feet. This gave
increased as altitude increased. This became known as the “two- them a considerable advantage over the Zero, which did not have
speed” supercharger. Its handle was next to the throttle and was octane ratings available beyond 90 to 95. By the end of the war,
inscribed with its two positions: “Low” and “High.” The pilot shifted Japanese engine manufacturers had higher-octane fuel and better
the handle at the altitude suggested in the operating handbook to superchargers in their development fighter aircraft.
obtain a surge of manifold pressure that indicated increased power. The P-47 Thunderbolt and the Lockheed P-38 had turbo super-
The new superchargers also required more carburetor air cooling charging that gave them service ceilings of 40,000 feet and a
and higher fuel-octane ratings to make them compatible with the 460mph level performance. These aircraft and engine combinations
increased power. At the beginning of WW II, the Japanese Zero, the did, however, take much longer to develop; they were much heavier;
Curtiss P-40, and the Bell P-39 were the only production fighters and they required long, complicated ducting to maintain proper
equipped with two-speed superchargers. weight and balance. An airplane had to be designed especially for
The Grumman F4F-3 Wildcat was one of the first production such installations. The P-38, for instance, took five years to reach
military aircraft to have the new two-stage supercharger, which combat. The Grumman F6F-3 only took two years and one month to
was considerably more complicated than the earlier version. The become combat ready.
two-stage supercharger was configured with a very large compres- In squadron service near the end of the air war, the Grumman
sor that was mechanically geared to the crankshaft. This gave the F8F-1 Bearcat, because of its 3,000-pounds-lighter structure,
engine its rated power at sea level. The two-speed supercharger reverted to the simple two-speed supercharger. It had a 38,000-foot
was geared to the crankshaft and attached to the rear of the service ceiling and a level-flight speed of 460mph. Aircraft design
engine; it augmented the main stage and boosted service-ceiling had grown along with engine supercharging development.

34 FlightJournal.com
unsafe, light gray Mine Safety oxygen masks. I
thought we had destroyed those masks many
months before, after having serious problems
with them at high altitude. We were now using
the dark green Navy-issue masks with the balloon
bag under the pilot’s chin; the bag clearly showed
the oxygen flow by its expansion and contraction
with each breath.
I immediately realized that I was faced with
making one of the most critical decisions I would
ever have to make for a fellow test pilot. I was
unable to communicate with Pat and I knew that
in another 10 minutes at full power he would
be halfway to Bermuda. He would then run out
of gasoline over a very cold and unwelcoming
winter Atlantic Ocean. It became quite clear what
I had to do, but I worried that my actions could
have dire consequences.
I slowed to formation speed on his left side
and closed in to him until my right wingtip
was just under his left wingtip. I then gave a
strong left push to my stick and rolled him into
a 30-degree right bank. His Corsair started down
in a long, slow spiral with me in trail. I did not
know whether my actions would lead to a steep
dive to the water or not, but I knew I had to do
something. With the luck of the century, the
Corsair’s very weak pitch and roll stability slowly
took over, and we leveled out heading back to
Long Island at about 19,000 feet. Much less
hesitantly, I then repeated the maneuver twice
until, at about 9,000 feet, he started talking to The number-six production
me in a most querulous and angry tone inquir- F6F-3 Hellcat displays its
camouflage paint job in early
ing which damn maneuver we were going to do
1943. It was a very plain but
next. Using my most diplomatic tone, I told him effective scheme that gave
that we were very low on fuel and that he should the pilot his greatest protec-
reduce power from full throttle to cruise and tion from enemy detection.
(Photo courtesy of Grumman
return to base with me. His regular fiery tempera- History Center)
ment seemed all too docile until he said that he
wasn’t feeling too well and suggested that I talk
him through his landing. On the ground, he con-
fessed that he didn’t remember anything about
the flight from climbing through 10,000 feet to
awaking at 9,000 feet before we landed. Need-
less to say, I now had great comments about the
Corsair’s weak lateral stability and many more
foul ones about the Mine Safety masks still in our
ready-room lockers.
A Very Jumpy Takeoff
Before measuring Corsair takeoff performance,
I performed the usual required stalls in all con-
figurations. This model of the Corsair had the
new and improved stall tripper wedge on the
right wing to improve stalls. It was quite clear to
me that the Hellcat was much more docile and
controllable during and after stalls, especially
in the landing-condition accelerated stalls. The
Corsair had more of an abrupt wing drop in the
normal stalls and was more difficult to un-stall
than the Hellcat. Even worse, the Corsair did a
totally unexpected double snap roll when per-
WW II Fighters 35
NAVY TASTE TEST … HELLCAT VS. CORSAIR
On F4U-1D Bu. No. 17781, you
can see the stall tripper strip
on the leading edge of the
right wing just outboard of the
linen patch that covers the gun
ports. This improved the stall
characteristics of the F4U-1D
compared with the XF4U, but
the stall characteristics were
still well below the minimums
that Grumman would have
allowed for one of its airplanes
to be delivered to the Navy.
(Photo courtesy of Grumman)
The F4U-1D Bu. No. 17781
used in the comparative
evaluation. Even with the
raised tailwheel and cockpit
enclosure, visibility over the
nose was very bad when the
airplane was in the three-
point landing position. The
airplane’s trim lines are quite
apparent here. It looked fast
even on the ground. (Photo
courtesy of Grumman)
36 FlightJournal.com
forming a 5G accelerated stall in the clean condi-
tion. During these tests, I should have been more
impressed with the Corsair’s reactions than I was.
The Corsair was really talking to me.
We had found that the Hellcat could shorten
its takeoff roll by about 100 feet in a calm wind
if the tail was raised to level-flight position dur-
ing the first part of the roll and then slammed
down at minimum takeoff speed. We named
this a “jump takeoff” (versus the normal three-
point type). This became the standard way to
make a short takeoff in the Hellcat—not so in
the mighty Corsair.
My Army doctor brother was visiting me at
Grumman on the day we were to perform
minimum-distance measured takeoffs in the
Corsair, and he was out on the runway to watch
the proceedings.
After making 10 measured three-point takeoffs
in the Corsair, I told the engineers that I was
going to start jump takeoffs. I pushed the stick
forward and waited until the airspeed indicated
66 knots; then I slammed the tail down onto the
runway as I had many, many times in the Hell-
cat. Lo and behold! As the tailwheel went down
on the runway, I got a very strong wind from the
left side of the cockpit because the airplane pre-
maturely left the ground, instantly yawed
30 degrees left, stalled, dropped the left wing,
fell to the ground, and departed the runway
promptly to the left without any help from
me. We were headed at full power straight into
a batch of Hellcats on the delivery line. Navy
delivery pilots who have flown from Grumman’s
Bethpage airport know there isn’t much empty
space there, and they would thus understand the
interesting but unplanned path the Corsair was
grinding out for me.
The Corsair’s action was so precipitate that it
seemed as if it took me way too much time to
start taking prudent defensive actions. I finally
yanked the throttle back, raised the tail so that I
could see what the near future held for me, and
began a frantic braking on what happily proved
to be hard-packed, dry ground. I stopped about
50 feet from the nearest Hellcat in the delivery-
line area! I sat there for a while until the earth
stopped trembling, then I slowly taxied back to
our experimental flightline and decided to call it
a day for jump takeoffs.
While we were having cocktails that evening,
my brother hesitantly asked me if I did that for a
living every day.
Epilogue
The Corsair’s production line benefited in many
ways from its Hellcat evaluation. Reducing the
oleo bounce, making further improvements to
its harsh stall characteristics, and enhancing the
forward visibility by extending the tailwheel
and raising the seat were easy ones to incor-
porate into the production line. But several of
the needed fixes were impossible to insert into
the production line until the major changeover
of the F4U-4 model in late 1944. The Corsair’s
cockpit internal layout, for instance, required a
complete redesign, and that was impossible to
do with the high wartime production rate that
Vought was striving for in 1943.
Forward visibility for the Corsair was never as
good as the Hellcat’s because of the design of its
wing center section. In a fighter, fuel is usually
required to be on its center of gravity (CG) to
keep the flight characteristics within satisfac-
tory limits. The Corsair was originally designed
to have the fuel in the wing center section, and
the first few prototypes did have it there. But the
inverted-gull-wing design was so complicated to
manufacture that those tanks had to be removed
and a fuel tank had to be placed on top of the
wing in a fuselage extension—where the cockpit
had been. Placing the cockpit 4 feet farther aft
gave the Corsair its very impaired forward vis-
ibility, especially in the landing configuration.
This poor forward visibility also greatly reduced
pilot lead estimation capabilities in deflection
gunnery runs. The long nose was as endemic
to poor visibility in the Corsair as the design of
the wing dihedral was to the low rolling perfor-
mance in the Hellcat.
The Hellcat, with its straight wing center sec-
tion, could be designed with all of the fuel on
the CG. Thus, the cockpit could be positioned
just behind the engine to provide excellent
forward visibility for aerial gunnery, carrier
approach, and even after flare-out on landing. It
was also attached to so much structure around
the CG that it gave the pilot excellent crash pro-
tection. Hellcat pilots gave Grumman its nick-
name “the Grumman Ironworks.”
The lack of satisfactory forward visibility
caused many carrier-landing accidents in the
early Corsair series until the F4U-4 came into
squadrons late in the war. Because of high acci-
dent rates, Corsairs were pulled from carrier
operations three times during the war. In land-
based operations, where higher-speed wheel
landings could be used to improve forward vis-
ibility, the Corsair had a very good safety record.
In summary, any objective analysis must F6F-3 Bu. No. 08867 was
acknowledge that the United States and the one of the test airplanes used
to check production fixes
U.S. Navy were fortunate indeed to have Grum- that would go into future
man and Vought to produce the “Fustess with production. You can see the
the mostess” so soon after Pearl Harbor. Part of very good visibility over the
nose compared to that of the
the heat in the discussion to decide which was
F4U-1D. The pilot could see
the better airplane was generated by the fact the runway 100 yards directly
that both planes met the requirements for car- in front of the airplane while
rier and land-based uses extremely well. taxiing. (Photo courtesy of
Grumman)
This writer just might have been a little less
biased if the Chance Vought Corp. was sending
him a monthly retirement check of the same
size as Grumman has been doing for the last
17 years. If, however, the late Boone Guyton,
who was the project test pilot for all models of
the Corsair (and was an old friend) was buying
the beer, I would agree heartily with him that the
“bent-wing bastard” was the “greatest fighter in
aviation history!” J
WW II Fighters 37
Elliptical
Elegance
FLYING AND EVALUATING THE SEAFIRE MARK III
BY CORKY MEYER

With a manufacturing life

beginning in 1938 and run-
ning to 1948, the Spitfire had
enormous “stretch” in that
a bewildering variety of ver-
sions were designed to keep it
abreast of the competition. All
were beautiful! (Photo by John
Dibbs/planepicture.com)
It’s commonly agreed that the Spitfire/Seafire configuration was the
most beautiful fighter ever. Its elliptical wing and long, slim fuselage
were most delightful to the eye, and its flight characteristics equaled its
aerodynamic excellence. The Navy Spitfire—the Seafire—was heavier but
otherwise retained all the Spitfire’s delightful flight characteristics.
ELLIPTICAL ELEGANCE

October 1942: Spitfire Mk VB MD-T was flown by 336th Fighter

Squadron, 4th Fighter Group ace Don Gentile out of Debden, England.
(Illustration by Tom Tullis)

This Mk VC Spitfire sports

the colors of the famous
RAF Wing Cmdr. Sir Douglas
Bader’s aircraft. This well-
known legless hero of the
Battle of Britain was shot
down over France in mid-1941
and taken prisoner. One of his
wooden legs was lost when
he parachuted, but the Ger-
mans allowed him to have a
pair of good ones parachuted
to him during a bombing raid.
Although he tried to escape
many times, he remained a
captive until the end of the
war, as is well documented in
the 1956 movie Reach for
the Sky. (Photo courtesy of
Corky Meyer)
The Spitfire and Seafire THE LENGTH AND STEEP ANGLE OF THE
series had only two unac-
ceptable features to perturb NOSE PROVIDED INSUFFICIENT FORWARD
a fighter pilot: one was VISIBILITY WHEN TAXIING.
caused by its configuration,
and the other was the result of gross negligence on large and always in the way. So much for the
the part of the design team. The length of its nose objective evaluation. In reality, combat pilots
and the aircraft’s steep, nose-high angle provided would forget these drawbacks when airborne!
insufficient forward visibility when taxiing. The I was checked out by two soon-to-be-famous
slimness of the fuselage alleviated this problem Royal Navy lieutenants: Mike Lithgow, who
somewhat, but continual S-turns while taxiing became chief test pilot of the Supermarine after
were mandatory. And the cockpit’s internal layout the war and also became my good friend; and
was a disaster! It was configured as if blindfolded Peter Twiss, who became chief test pilot at Fairey
engineers had played “Pin the tail on the donkey.” Aircraft. On March 10, 1956, Twiss set a world
Important switches, instruments, and controls speed record in the Fairey Delta-2 by flying the
weren’t labeled and were small and hidden. Unim- first jet aircraft to exceed 1,000mph in level
portant items, too, weren’t labeled, but they were flight. Lithgow and Twiss were not only friendly
1939: An echelon of Spitfire Mk Is flies over England. For the war, the peacetime echelon was revised into two pairs of Spitfires that were farther apart and flew in a step-
down formation so that they’d be better able to support one another during fast combat maneuvers. Each was armed with eight Browning .30-caliber machine guns and
had a top speed of 362mph. They were capable foes of early Bf 109s but were soon outclassed by more powerful versions. (Photo courtesy of the RAF, via Corky Meyer)

check pilots but also most helpful in getting me engine, its big wing area, and immediate power-
off the ground and back to the flightline. ful rudder, its wheel-brake problem was soon out
On the flight before mine, the pilot reported of my thoughts. The terrific, full-power takeoff
that the brakes failed after landing. Inspection acceleration of this light interceptor-fighter was
showed that the engine-driven air compressor that thrilling. By raising the tail immediately, I could
provided power for the wheel brakes had some- easily see ahead. The Seafire left the ground after
how leaked air, and the brakes failed while taxiing less than 500 feet of roll into a 20-knot wind
with the engine at low rpm. Twiss confidently and climbed like a homesick angel. For the rest
asserted that they had filled the air accumulator of the flight, I mentally blotted out all problems
and that it would provide enough braking to get
airborne but that it might fail after landing. He
further stated that if I made a “docile” landing and
taxied “peacefully” off the runway into the grass,
they would come out with a tug and retrieve the
aircraft. With such professional encouragement, I
decided to give it a go. Evaluating the Spitfire was
on the top of my need-to-do list at the Joint Army/
Navy Fighter Conference in October 1944.
Because of the thrust of its 1340hp Merlin

This Mk IX Spitfire with No. 133 Squadron markings has wing

bumps for 20mm cannon, but they have not been installed. The
Mk IX had the “universal” E wing, which also had space for four
.50-caliber guns. It had a 250-pound bomb rack on each outer
wing panel and a fuselage rack for a 500-pound bomb; this made it
an effective but short-range fighter-bomber. Some later ground-
attack models had clipped wingtips, and that made the wing much
stronger for evasive, ground-attack recoveries. (Photo courtesy
of the RAF, via Corky Meyer)

WW II Fighters 41
ELLIPTICAL ELEGANCE

Tony Smith taxies his pink
photorecon Spitfire PR Mk
PL 965 at the Leeward Air
Ranch. He flew his “airshow”
on most weekends in a
Spitfire that flew many mis-
sions over Europe during the
last year of the WW II. (Photo
courtesy of Corky Meyer)
with this airplane. Straight stalls and turning
stalls were friendly with very little wing drop-
ping and at an unheard speed of 66mph! (The
Hellcat had an 85mph stall speed.)
I did spins as though I was in a training air-
craft, with instant recovery as soon as I released
the controls. Even if I could have found the trim-
tab controls (and I couldn’t), I had little need
for them. The stability about the airplane’s three
axes was low enough to make it a fighter pilot’s
dream and high enough to fly hands-off in tur-
bulent air—a great combination. Aerobatics were
a pleasure. The airplane responded right after the
thought of any aerobatic maneuver came into
my mind, seemingly without effort. It was easy
to see how a low-time pilot would easily be able
to master this aircraft with confidence.
The Seafire had delightful upright flying quali-
ties. Knowing that it had an inverted fuel and oil
system, I decided to try inverted figure-8s. They
were as easy as pie, even though I hung from the
complicated, but comfortable, British pilot-restraint
harness. I was surprised to hear myself laughing
as if I were crazy. I have never enjoyed a flight in

A LITTLE SPITFIRE HISTORY when they shot down two German Heinkel 111 bombers over the
Firth of Forth. This was only a prelude.

I
n 1934, the Royal Air Force put out specification F.5/34 for a
fighter with all of the design features that Reginald Mitchell
had told the RAF that he could put into a fighter: It would be
a monoplane instead of a biplane and would have an enclosed
cockpit, retractable landing gear, and eight machine guns. Mitchell
had good credentials: In 1931, he had redefined the concept of
“speed” with his earlier Schneider Cup Racers (406.99mph). Also,
in 1934, the Rolls-Royce Corp. had promised that it would make a
1,000hp version of its new 12-cylinder PV-12 liquid-cooled engine
for this aircraft. Based on this engine, Mitchell’s design, with eight
.30-caliber wing guns, went far beyond the requirements of the
F.5/34 specification. When it was submitted to the Air Ministry
in January 1935, this aircraft specification was just changed to
F-.37/34 for the purpose of signing the Spitfire contract. The RAF
approved a Spitfire mock-up at the Wollaston plant in March 1935.
One year later, on March 5, 1936, at Eastleigh Airport in
Hampshire, chief test pilot “Mutt” Summers of the Vickers and
Supermarine companies successfully flew the first Spitfire to have
the PV-12 engine—by then known as the Rolls-Royce Merlin C. This
engine propelled the Spitfire at 349.5mph—a 100mph increase
in fighter speeds. The RAF had used the Hawker Fury, Gloster
Gamecock, Bristol Bulldog, etc., since the end of WW I, but this
new Spit ended the era of British biplane fighters.
Deliveries Begin
The Spitfire’s guns were first fired in anger on October 9, 1939,
Spitfire airframes incorporated two developments that greatly
aided pilots. The original ailerons were fabric covered and gave
a poor rate of roll at combat speeds. On the Mk V model, they
were modified: A redesigned aerodynamic balance tab and metal
covering greatly reduced stick forces and gave it a superb roll rate
of more than 140 degrees per second—one of the highest rolling
capabilities among WW II fighters.
The Malcolm partial-bubble canopy from the Mk I Spitfire
provided good all-around visibility for five years and then, in 1944,
the full-bubble American canopies were available. The British,
however, delayed their installation until just after the war’s end,
probably to avoid delaying the sorely needed Spitfire deliveries.
Another Spitfire asset of which its wartime pilots were probably
ignorant was its 11.5-percent-of-chord main-wing thickness; this
gave the Spit a critical dive Mach number of about 0.84—a higher
dive speed than any other fighter used in the war.
Most WW II fighters that had wing thicknesses of 15 to
16 percent of chord had a 0.76 top Mach number; this greatly
limited their ability to enter evasive dives and often caused
them instant and difficult recovery-from-compressibility
(transonic) control problems. On April 27, 1944, one RAF
photorecon P.R. XI did a planned, instrument-recorded vertical
dive to 0.92 Mach and returned to base without its propeller
and engine gearbox. I am sure that the test pilot was pulling on
his control stick—“frozen” by compressibility shock waves—with
both hands when his Spitfire decelerated through 0.84 Mach

42 FlightJournal.com
IT’S A SERIOUS CONTENDER FOR THE CLAIM OF BEING THE MOST COMBAT-
DEVELOPED AND MOST PROLIFICALLY MANUFACTURED WW II FIGHTER.
a fighter so much—before or since—or felt com- forces. It’s a serious contender for the claim of The last batch of Spitfires
fortable so readily in any aircraft and in any flight being the most combat-developed and most prolif- manufactured at the end of
WW II were Mk XIVs; they had
condition. It was now clear to me why so few ically manufactured WW II fighter. After the war, the clear-view bubble canopy
exhausted, hastily trained Battle of Britain pilots another batch of 2,500 Spitfires was constructed and were essentially Mk IXs
were able to fight off Hitler’s hordes for so long and for the Swedish, Egyptian, Israeli, Burmese, Dutch, with a U.S.-built Packard Mer-
so successfully. I eventually learned the meaning Palestinian, Norwegian, Danish, Greek, and Syrian lin 266 engine in place of the
Rolls Merlin 66. They entered
of Winston Churchill’s famous phrase honoring air forces. With the advent of the Gloster Meteor service in large numbers in
those overworked Royal Air Force (RAF) heroes. and the de Havilland Vampire jet, the military autumn 1944 and were more
Alas, the gauge on my Seafire’s one-and-only, Spitfires lasted into the late 1950s—not bad for a than a match for the Luft-
waffe. (Photo courtesy of the
all-too-small, 122-gallon fuel system beckoned Johnny-come-lately to WW II. RAF, via Corky Meyer)
me to attempt a brakeless, “docile” landing with- The Spitfire’s flight handling characteristics are
out a ground loop. Like a martini high and by described by all pilots who evaluated it as being
landing in the same 20-knot wind, it seemed as akin to those of a highly bred, swift Arabian
easy as everything else had been during the last steed. In comparison, the United States built
delightful hour and a half. After a gentle landing, only plodding, workhorse fighters. 
I gently and civilly nudged the rudder of my new
Seafire Mk III friend and taxied off the
runway. It stopped peacefully as I had
been told it would. I called the tower,
notified them of my predicament and
awaited my very kind English test-pilot
friend’s arrival with a tow tug.
During the war, 19,372 Supermarine
Spitfires, including the Mk XVI model,
and 1,622 Navy Seafires up to the
Mk III model were delivered in 25 dif-
ferent models to British, Canadian,
Australian, New Zealand, and U.S. fighter

and instantly reverted to full control,

which caused him to make an unintended
excessively high-G pullout. Good-bye,
prop and gearbox! I have experienced
this phenomenon in a Hellcat while exiting the critical transonic
compressibility zone.
The Spitfire’s major shortcomings were that it couldn’t carry
heavy external stores or large external fuel tanks, and it had a
short range. This limited its role as a fighter-bomber. Provisions
were made for late–Mk V series Spits to carry one centerline
500-pound bomb or a 170-gallon drop tank. In the 5,665 Mk IXs
built, the bomb load was increased to 1,000 pounds with the
addition of two wing bomb racks. At this time, American fighters
carried more than 2,000 pounds of bombs. Several later Spitfire
marques also carried six wing racks for 5-inch HVAR rockets. This
limited externally carried armament remained until the Mk XVI
model, which appeared just before the war’s end.
Spitfires in the Battle of Britain
Because the Spitfire’s production was started later than the Hur-
ricane’s, only 19 squadrons of them were available for the Battle
of Britain, but there were 30 squadrons of Hurricanes. Typically,
the 60mph-slower Hurricanes were assigned to attack bombers,
and the Spitfires were ordered to a higher altitude to take on the
faster Bf 109 fighter escort. Both aircraft were thus in their best
fighting arena for this historic battle.
Fortunately, the Spitfire and the Messerschmitt were similarly
vulnerable to enemy aircraft shooting from the rear; the oil
cooler, coolant, and intercoolers that were visibly located in the
wings were easy targets for attacking aircraft. When, in 1941, the
Focke-Wulf 190 entered the fray with its air-cooled engine and
submerged oil coolers, the balance was tipped in favor of the
Luftwaffe. The Hurricane and the Luftwaffe’s Heinkel 111 bombers
had the same, vulnerable, wing-located cooling systems.
The Navy Spitfire: The Seafire
At the outbreak of WW II, among Allied navies, only the Royal Navy
(RN) Fleet Air Arm flew biplanes, and it did so until early 1941.
The Seafire production decision was probably not taken sooner
because the RAF required all the available Spitfires for the Battle
of Britain and the African campaigns.
Although the British RN had 1,620 Seafires before the end of
the war, it didn’t do as well on carriers as the 4,313 designed-
from-the-ground-up Grumman Wildcats, Hellcats, and Vought
Corsairs (delivered to Great Britain under the U.S. Lend-Lease Act).
According to RN test pilot Capt. Eric Brown, “The Seafires had
very limited range for combat air patrols, and their deck-landing
accident rate resulted in more operational losses than combat
successes.”
Its idiosyncrasies notwithstanding, the Spitfire earned its
reputation in all of the theaters of WW II and was used by many
nations long after hostilities had ceased.

WW II Fighters 43
FLYING THE
Bf 109
TWO PILOTS GIVE THEIR REPORTS
BY MARK HANNA & CAPT. ERIC BROWN PHOTOS BY JOHN DIBBS

There are no Gustav/Friedrich Bf-109G/Fs flying, but several

Spanish-built Hispano Buchóns have been re-engined with origi-
nal 109 engines and their sheet metal massaged to make exact
replicas of the G/F models. Several original
Bf 109Es, however, still fly.

44 FlightJournal.com
 A MODERN VIEW
OF AN ICON
BY MARK HANNA

The Bf 109 is, without a doubt, the most

satisfying and challenging aircraft I have ever flown.
So how does it fly, and how does it compare with
other WW II fighters?
To my eye, the aircraft looks dangerous, both to the enemy and to its own pilots. Its
“difficult” reputation is well known, and right from the outset, you are aware that it
needs to be treated with a great deal of respect.
As you walk up to the 109, you are at first struck by its small size, particularly if it is
parked next to a contemporary American fighter. Closer examination reveals a crazy-
looking, knock-kneed undercarriage; a very heavily framed, sideways-opening canopy
with almost no forward view in the three-point attitude; a long rear fuselage; and tiny
tail surfaces.
A walk-around reveals ingenious split radiator flaps and ailerons with a lot of
movement and rather odd-looking external mass balances. It also has independently
operating leading-edge slats. These devices should glide open and shut on the ground
with the pressure of a single finger. Other unusual features include the horizontal
stabilizer that doubles as the elevator trimmer and the complete absence of a rudder-
trim system. Overall, the finish is a strange mix of the innovative and archaic.

WW II Fighters 45
FLYING THE BF 109
One of the few remaining
airworthy Bf 109s in the world
is D-FEHD, a G-10 model that
belongs to The Old Flying
Machine Co.; it was restored
by Hans Dittes.
46 FlightJournal.com
To enter the cockpit, you climb onboard and
gently lower yourself downward and forward while
holding onto the windscreen. Once inside, you
are almost lying down as you would be if driving
a racecar. The cockpit is narrow, and if you have
broad shoulders (don’t all fighter pilots?), it is a
tight squeeze. Once strapped in—itself a knuckle-
rapping affair—you can take stock.
First impressions are of its simplicity. From left
to right, the co-located elevator-trim and flap-trim
wheels fall easily to hand. You need several turns to
get the flaps fully down to 10 degrees, and the idea
is that you can crank both together. In practice,
this is a little difficult, and I tend to operate them
independently.
Coming forward, you see the tailwheel locking
lever. This either allows the tailwheel to caster or it
locks it dead ahead. Next is the throttle quadrant,
which consists of a huge throttle handle and the
manual propeller-pitch control. Forward and down
on the floor is an enormous and very effective ki-
gas primer with a T-shaped handle. Directly above
this and in line with the canopy seal is the red
hood-jettison lever. Pulling this releases two very
strong springs in the rear part of the canopy and
causes the rear section to come loose, and there-
fore, the whole main part of the hood is unhinged
and can be pushed away into the airflow. Looking
directly forward, you see, clustered together, the
standard instrument panel with the vertical-select
magnetos on the left, starter and booster coil
slightly right of center, and engine instruments
all grouped on the right-hand side. This aircraft’s
instrumentation is all German apart from the
altimeter.
The center console under the main instrument
panel consists of a 720-channel radio, VOR, ADF,
and E2B compass. Just to the left of the center con-
sole, close to your left knee, is the undercarriage
up/down selector and the mechanical and electri-
cal undercarriage position indicator. On D-FEHD,
this is a two-button selector. Select the undercar-
riage up or down position by lifting the guard and
simply pushing the relevant button. Radiator flaps
are controlled by a four-position selector—“Zu,”
“Auf,” “Auto,” and “Ruhe” (rest).
The right side of the cockpit has the electrical
switches, battery master, boost pumps, pitot heat,
and that’s it! There is no rudder trim or rudder-
pedal adjust; also, the seat can be adjusted only
during preflight and offers a choice of only three
settings. If you are any bigger than me (6 feet tall),
it all starts to get a bit confined. Once you are
strapped in and comfortable, close the canopy to
check your seating position. If you haven’t flown
the 109 before, you usually get a clout on the head
as you swing the heavy lid over and down. Nobody
sits that low in a fighter!
D-FEHD has a beautiful “Galland hood” that
offers a much improved view compared with the
earlier, heavier-frame canopy.
Up, Up, and Away—Almost
It’s getting close to going flying now! OK; open the
hood again (in case you have to get out in a hurry).
To start, power ON, boost pumps ON. Five good
shots on the primer. Set the throttle to IDLE. Ener-
gize the starter; when the pitch of its noise reaches
its apex, press the starter button. It’s a good starter,
and with a brief snort of flame, the 109 fires up
immediately.
Check the oil pressure right away to ensure that
it is rising, idle initially at 700rpm, then gently go
up to 1,000rpm, and the whole aeroplane starts to
rock from side to side on the gear with some sort of
harmonic. This is a most unusual sensation and it
is good fun!
After the start, you are immediately aware
that the airplane rattles. The engine canopy and
reduction gear all give off little vibrations and
shakes that transmit directly to the pilot. Check
the red flaps control to “Zu.” Check that they
close together. Reopen them now to delay the
coolant temperature rise. The 109 needs a lot of
power to get moving, so you need to allow the
engine to warm up a little before you pile on the
power. Throttle up to 1,800rpm and suddenly,
you’re rolling; power back. To turn while taxiing,
push the stick forward against the instrument
panel to lighten the tail, add some throttle and
a jab of brake (do this in a Spitfire and you’re on
your nose!). The 109, however, is very tail-heavy
and is reluctant to turn; you can very easily lock
up a wheel. If you do not use the above tech-
nique, you will charge off across the airfield in a
straight line!
Forward view is appalling, and because of
the tail/brake arrangement, this makes weaving
more difficult than on other, similar types. By the
time you are at the end of the strip, the aircraft is
already starting to get hot. So, quickly on with the
run-up.
I’m sitting as high as I can, and my head is
touching the canopy. I am not wearing goggles, as
they scratch and catch the hood if they are up on
your head. A large bone dome is out of the ques-
tion and, in my opinion, is a flight-safety hazard in
this aircraft.
Hood positively locked; push up on it to check.
Oil temperature is 50 degrees, coolant temperature
is greater than or at 70 degrees. Brakes ON (there
is no parking brake), stick back, and power gently
up to 30 inches and 2,100rpm. Exercise the prop at
least twice, with the rpm falling back to 1,800 each
time; keep an eye on the oil pressure. The noise
and vibration levels have now increased dramati-
cally. Power back to 1,800rpm and check the mags.
Insignificant drop on each side. You must hurry,
as the coolant temperature is at 98 degrees C and
going up; you have to get rolling to get some cool-
ing air through the radiators. Pre-takeoff checks:
elevator trim set to +1 degree, no rudder trim,
throttle friction tight. This is vital, as you will need
your left hand for various services immediately
after takeoff. Mixture is automatic, pitch to fine.
Fuel cock is ON, both boost pumps are ON, pres-
sure is good, primer is locked. Flaps crank down to
20 degrees for takeoff. Radiator flaps checked at full
WW II Fighters 47
FLYING THE BF 109

open; if you take off with them closed, you will
certainly boil the engine and are guaranteed to
crack a head. Gyros set to Duxford’s runway.
Instruments: temps and pressures all in the
green for takeoff. Radiator is now 102 degrees.
Oxygen, you don’t have; hood rechecked down
and locked; harness tight and secure; hydrau-
lics—no check. Controls full and free, tailwheel
locked. Got to go—105 degrees.
There’s no time to hang around and worry
about the takeoff. Here you go!
Airborne
Power gently up and keep it coming smoothly up
to 40 inches. Keep the tail down initially, and keep
it straight by feel rather than any positive tech-
nique. Tail is coming up now, and the rudder is
becoming effective. I’m subconsciously correcting
the rudder all the time. It’s incredibly entertaining
to watch the 109 lift off the ground; the rudder
literally flashes around!
This little fighter is now bucketing along, accel-
erating rapidly. As the tail lifts, there is a positive

COMBAT WARRIOR, THE HISTORICAL VIEW BY CAPT. ERIC BROWN

The Bf 109 came about in very
strange circumstances. On
February 26, 1935, when the
clandestine Luftwaffe officially
came into being, it had already
issued a requirement for a single-
seat, high-speed fighter. This had
been sent to three established
aircraft manufacturers but not to
Professor Willy Messerschmitt’s
company. Nevertheless, Messer-
schmitt was eventually invited to
submit a design, probably owing
to the intervention of famous WW
I ace Ernst Udet and the influence
of Rudolf Hess, who was a lifelong
friend of Willy Messerschmitt.
A New Fighter Company
for a New Luftwaffe
The Messerschmitt design was
the unique Bf 109—a cantile-
vered, low-wing monoplane built
of metal with a flush-riveted,
stressed skin. The oval-section,
monocoque fuselage had an en-
closed cockpit; the single-spar
wing had automatic leading-edge
The Bf 109F was fitted with a more powerful DB601 engine in a new symmetrical cowl, and modifications were also made to the
supercharger and radiator intakes. The 109F was also fitted with a new cantilevered tailplane, rounded wingtips, a smaller rud-
der, and a fully retractable tailwheel. (Photo courtesy of Warren M. Bodie)
slats; and the inboard portions of
the trailing edge carried slotted
flaps. The narrow-track landing
gear retracted outward into the
wing, but the tailwheel was fixed.
Although designed around the
610hp Junkers Jumo 210A 12-cyl-
inder, inverted-vee, liquid-cooled
engine, the prototype was, unbe-
lievably, powered by an imported
695hp British Rolls-Royce Kestrel
V. The first flight was made in early
September 1935, and in October,
it competed in the comparative
trials of the four different fighters.
The second prototype flew
in January 1936 with the Jumo
210A, and the third flew in June
1936. These models carried two
.30-caliber (7.9mm) machine guns
above the engine cowl. In all, 13
prototype and preproduction
aircraft were built before 1938;
the main differences between
them were armament, engines,
and propellers.
By autumn 1936, the choice
for the new Luftwaffe fighter
was between the Messerschmitt
Bf 109 and the Heinkel He 112.
As inspector of fighters, Lt. Col.
Udet was responsible for the final
decision. He tested both types
himself and found little to choose
between them. He was, however,
convinced that the angular and
structurally lighter 109 would be
easier to mass-produce, so the
die was cast. Although the test
pilots at Rechlin Test Center pre-
ferred the Heinkel, the decision in
favor of the Messerschmitt was
made before their tests had been
completed.
The Race for Speed Is On
There then followed an extraor-
dinary series of one-upmanship
flights between the two compet-
ing companies. On November
11, 1937, Dr. Wurster—Messer-
schmitt’s chief test pilot—set
a new world speed record of
384mph (620km/h) in a Bf 109
with an uprated DB 601A engine
that could produce 1,650hp for a
very short period. Meanwhile, Dr.
Heinkel had been redesigning the
He 112 and had come up with the
He 113, which, for some unknown
reason, was redesignated the
“He 100.” In the summer of 1938,
Udet visited the Heinkel facili-
ties in Warnemünde to fly the He
100, and on June 6, he casually
increased the world speed record
to 394mph (634km/h). On March
30, 1939, however, the Heinkel
chief test pilot Dieterle reached
463mph (746.6km/h).
Meanwhile, Messerschmitt
had designed the Me 209. This
version of the 109 had been spe-
cially modified to break the world
speed record, and chief test pilot
Fritz Wendel did this on April 26,
1939, at Augsburg with 469mph
(756km/h). The official world re-
cord book gives the record to an
Me 109R (research) aircraft, as
the Germans were keen to associ-
ate the top speed with their Luft-
waffe fighter. Because the He 100
had made its record run at sea
level and the Me 209 had flown
over the much higher elevation of
Augsburg, it had a 9mph (13km/h)
advantage, and Dr. Heinkel said
he intended to fly the He 100 at
the same (higher) level. Udet, how-
ever, forbade any further record
attempt since the Nazis wanted
the world to believe that the Luft-
waffe had a world-record-beater in
service, which was, of course, far
from the truth.
The first Bf 109B-1s with 635hp
Jumo 210D engines and wooden
propellers went into service in
1937, and in the same year, 24
109B-2s with 640hp Jumo 210Es
and metal propellers were deliv-
ered to the Luftwaffe’s Condor Le-
gion, which supported Gen. Franco
in the Spanish Civil War. The Bf
109C was similar to the 109B-2
but carried more armament; the D

48 FlightJournal.com
tendency to swing left. This can easily be checked;
however, if you are really aggressive in lifting the
tail, the left swing tendency is difficult to stop and
happens very quickly. Now the tail is up, and you
can vaguely see where you are going. It’s a wild,
rough ride on grass, and with all the noise and the
smoke from the stacks, it’s exciting.
Quick glance at the airspeed indicator (ASI):
160km/h, a light pull-back on the stick, and you’re
flying!
Hand off the throttle, select FLUG on the under-
carriage selector. The mechanical indicators motor
up very quickly, and you feel and hear a “clonk,
clonk” as the gear comes home. A quick look
out at the wings, and you can see that the slats—
fully out—are starting to creep in as the airspeed
increases and the angle of attack is reduced. With
230km/h and an immediate climbing turn-up, you
enter the downwind leg just in case you need to
put the airplane down in a hurry. The Old Flying
Machine Company’s SOP is always to fly an orbit
overhead of the field to allow everything to stabi-

version made a significant change

to the 960hp Daimler-Benz DB
600A engine and an armament of
two .30-caliber (7.9mm) machine
guns plus an engine-mounted
20mm cannon that fired through
the airscrew spinner.

Real Production Begins

The first major production version
of the fighter was the Bf 109E
(popularly known as the “Emil”),
and it was powered by a 1,100hp
DB 601A with direct fuel injection
and improved superchargers. Its
engine no longer had a manual,
supercharger-shifting mechanism
that the pilot had to manage con-
tinuously to maintain maximum
power as his altitude changed
in combat. The Emil’s DB 601A
engine had an infinitely variable,
automatic, hydraulic supercharger
transmission that completely
relieved the pilot of that onerous
duty. The pilot could now concen-
trate completely on the outside.
The first prototype for the Emil
series appeared in the summer
of 1938, and the first production
aircraft were put into service in
December of that year. By the
outbreak of WW II (September
1939), the Luftwaffe had 1,060 Bf
109s of various types.
Willy Messerschmitt wanted
to enhance performance by
saving weight, and that meant
compromising the plane’s struc-
tural strength. This resulted in
accidents during training but was
even more evident in operational
service, in which the high-G loads
of combat led to basic wing fail-
ures. Its major design weakness,
however, lay in its narrow-track
landing gear, which gave it a ten-
dency to ground-loop; that was
exacerbated by the castering of
the tailwheel in the ground at-
titude when the resultant ground
The 109G was basically an F-series airframe that had been fitted with the new D13605A engine that had a maximum output of
1,475hp that could be boosted to 1,775 by the addition of GM.1 nitrous oxide injection. The most effective version of the Gustav
was the G-6 that had a 30mm engine-mounted cannon and two 20mm underwing cannon. The cabin pressurization system of
the G-5 was removed in the G-6 variant (courtesy of Warren Bodie).
loop could not be stopped with long and made too high above the Low Countries, where the German
harsh braking and full deflec- ground could result in a wing drop; fighters rapidly established air su-
tion of the rudder. I feel certain, in severe cases, this could end in periority. Against France, they ran
too, that the landing gear’s a cartwheel when a wingtip dug into potentially sterner opposition
being slightly splayed outward into the ground. in the Dewoitine D.520, but France
aggravated the ground-looping Because of the frequency of had too few for them to make any
tendency and contributed to the the accidents, a tandem, two- real impact. By early May 1940,
excessive tire wear and bursts. seat, trainer version was eventu- the six British squadrons of Hawk-
The Spitfire had a similar, narrow- ally developed, and in mid-1945, I er Hurricanes in France had been
track landing gear, but it was not had the opportunity to fly this Bf increased to 10, and although they
splayed out like that of the Bf 109G-12. put up a good fight, they were not
109, and the Spitfire didn’t show Once, I was foolish enough to quite a match for the 109E in per-
any ground-looping propensities. fly it solo from the rear seat; my formance, firepower, or numbers.
In 1939, these problems caused view for landing was virtually nil, As they were withdrawn to Britain
damage to 255 Bf 109s (only 14 and I had to make three passes at the end of May, Spitfire Is ap-
percent were damaged during before I arrived back in one piece— peared for the first time to cover
training). Sixty-three percent of and this in broad daylight! This the evacuation of British ground
the damaged aircraft were Emils, airplane must literally have been troops at Dunkirk. This new fighter
and as a result, a tailwheel lock an instructor’s nightmare because must have come as a major shock
was fitted to later models. the view from the instructor’s to the Luftwaffe because up to
Another problem that arose in cockpit was by a periscopic sight— 25,000 feet, the Spitfire could
training was the difficulty encoun- a case of the blind truly leading outmaneuver and outperform the
tered by young, inexperienced the blind. Emil. The balance was not all in fa-
pilots in night flying. Owing to the vor of the British fighter, however,
Bf 109’s limited forward view and WW II Puts the Emil’s because the 109E had superior
the tendency of its wing slats to Feet to the Fire firepower, performed better above
snatch in and out near the stall, WW II began well for the Luft- 25,000 feet, and could outdive the
any flare to land that was held too waffe against Poland and the Spitfire.

WW II Fighters 49
FLYING THE BF 109

lize before venturing off; this has saved at least one
of our airplanes.
Start to frantically crank up the flaps and
increase the airspeed through 250km/h; power
back to 33 inches and 2,300rpm for the climb.
Plenty of airflow through the narrow radiators
now, so close them and remember to keep a watch-
ful eye on the coolant gauge for the next few min-
utes until the temperature has settled down. With
the radiator flaps closed, the aeroplane accelerates
positively. As you climb, you’re aware of holding in
a little right rudder to keep the ball in the middle,
but the foot loads are light, and it’s no prob-
lem. Level off and power back to 30 inches and
2,100rpm. The speed has picked up to the 109’s
cruise of about 400km/h, and now the ball is right
in the middle, and no rudder input is necessary.
Handling
Once settled down, with your adrenaline level back
down to just plain high, you can take stock of the
situation. The initial reaction is of delight to be
flying a classic airplane, and the next is the realiza-
tion that this is a real fighter. You feel aggressive

COMBAT WARRIOR, THE HISTORICAL VIEW (CONT'D.)

The Secret Is Out, and
Its Faults Are Found
While all this was happening, on
November 22, 1939, a Bf 109E-3
made a forced landing at Woerth
in France. It turned out to be an
event of some significance. After
being flight-tested by the French
Air Force at Orleans/Bricy airfield,
it was handed over to the Royal
Air Force (RAF) (Amiens, May 2,
1940) and arrived at Royal Aircraft
Establishment (RAE) Farnborough,
England, on May 14, for tests—a
series of trials that lasted until
September 20. These revealed
valuable information about its
strengths and weaknesses and
were passed on to frontline RAF
squadrons.
From the handling viewpoint,
the Bf 109E had two pluses and
four minuses. On the credit side,
it had a steep angle of climb that
made it difficult to follow, and it
could also bunt into a dive without
its direct-injection engine cutting
out under the negative G, thus
leaving a pursuing British fighter
behind as its carburetor-fed en-
The Bf 109E was the first mass-production variant of the 109 series. By January 1940, it had displaced all previous models with
1,540 aircraft produced and 540 in Luftwaffe front-line inventory. The controls, however, became very heavy above 400mph,
and this was a deficiency when it was in combat with the Spitfire, which had low, user-friendly, control-maneuvering forces
throughout its fight envelope. (Photo courtesy of Warren M. Bodie)
gine faltered. On the downside,
the 109 had poor harmony of
control: no rudder trimmer, which
meant it was easy to inadvertently
pick up skid and ruin one’s sight-
ing aim; in tight turns, the slats
snatched open, giving lateral
twitching and again ruining the
pilot’s aim. Finally, when the speed
was allowed to build up rapidly in
a dive, the elevators became in-
creasingly heavy until at 440mph,
they became virtually immovable.
This timely analysis of the
Emil’s handling was made avail-
able to the RAF before the Battle
of Britain, and it stood the British
pilots in good stead because they
were up against some experi-
enced pilots who had fought in
the Spanish Civil War. The Bf 109E
acquitted itself reasonably well
in spite of its escort duties (it
was assigned to protect the
slower German bombers) and the
psychological effect of fighting
over enemy territory at almost
its extreme radius of action. Its
stablemate, the Bf 110, was, how-
ever, proving useful in the escort
role but was a failure as a fighter/
bomber, and this resulted in some
of the E-series being fitted with
bomb racks that could be jet-
tisoned, much to the dismay of
their pilots.
In fact, the Bf 109 later proved
itself a useful fighter/bomber in
conflicts such as in the May 22,
1941, Battle of Crete, in which the
British cruiser Fiji, escorted by
destroyers and withdrawing to
Egypt, was severely damaged by a
109E carrying a single 500-pound
bomb. The German pilot then
summoned another Emil fighter/
bomber that scored a direct hit
and sank the cruiser.
Mother Russia and
North Africa meet
the Bf 109E
In June 1941, the 109E figured
prominently and with great suc-
cess in the invasion of the Soviet
Union and became associated
with the highest scoring of all
fighter pilots, Erich “Bubi” Hart-
mann (352 kills). With the onset
of the Russian winter, it was
subjected to the harshest of en-
vironments, and its serviceability
did not match that of the Focke-
Wulf FW 190. It also showed itself
vulnerable to landing problems
on Russia’s uneven airfields and
airstrips.
In early fall 1941, the Emil was
subjected to the other end of
the climatic scale when a unit
equipped with the Bf 109E-4/Trop
was based in North Africa. Again,
this ubiquitous fighter became
closely associated with the most
famous German pilot of the North
African campaign: Lt. Hans Mar-
seille. Before his untimely death
at 22 years of age, Marseille shot
down a record 158 aircraft—all
flown by British pilots—in less than
two years of combat.
The 109 reacted better
to heat than to cold, but the
Daimler-Benz engine was prone
to overheating if running up or
taxiing was prolonged.
The Bf 109 was the most
prolific fighter aircraft, but was
this because it was an aerody-
namic masterpiece or because
of political decisions? An analysis
of its aerodynamic efficiency
shows high skin-friction drag and
high drag of its exposed parts,
especially those of the engine.
Politically, the Nazis had a very
short time from rising to power
to implementing their aggressive
plans, so a rapid buildup in Luft-
waffe fighter strength was neces-
sary to ensure air superiority, and
the Bf 109 was highly suitable for
mass production. Proof of this is
evident in that the Luftwaffe had
only 171 Bf 109s a year before the
outbreak of WW II yet had 1,060 a
year later.
Flying the Emil
Now let me give my impressions
of the Bf 109E purely as a fly-

50 FlightJournal.com
flying it. The urge is to go looking for something to
bounce and shoot down!
The roll rate is very good and very positive below
about 400 km/h, and the amount of effort needed
to produce the relevant nose movement seems
exactly right. As the stall is reached, the leading-
edge slats deploy—together, if the ball is in the
middle; slightly asymmetrically, if you have any
slip on. The aircraft delights in being pulled into
hard maneuvering turns at these slower speeds. As
the slats pop out, you feel a slight “notching” on
the stick, and you can pull more until the whole
airframe is buffeting quite hard. A little more and
you will drop a wing, but you have to be crass to
do it unintentionally.
Pitch tends to be heavy above 400km/h, but it
is still easy to manage up to 500km/h, and the air-
craft is perfectly happy carrying out low-level loop-
ing maneuvers from 550km/h and below. Above
550km/h, one peculiarity is a slight nose-down
trim change as you accelerate. This means that
when you run in for an airshow above 500km/h,
the airplane has a slight tucking sensation—a sort
of desire to get down to ground level. This is easily

MESSERSCHMITT BF 109E
Wingspan: 32 ft. 4 in.
Length: 28 ft. 4 in.
Maximum speed: 359mph at 12,000 ft.
Powerplant: One 1,100hp Daimler-Benz
DB 601A
Armament: One 20mm MG-FF/M cannon;
four 7.9mm MG-17 machine guns
Messerschmitt Bf 109E

DRAWINGS BY LLOYD S. JONES

ing machine and taken in the
context of its time scale. It was
the Luftwaffe’s first-generation
monoplane fighter, and to any
pilot weaned on highly maneuver-
able but rather slow biplanes such
as the Hawker Fury and Gloster
Gladiator, it was a revelation in
speed and rate of climb and an
exciting handling experience. The
roll rate and acceleration in the
dive were notable for that era,
and the power and flexibility of
the direct-injection engine were
truly exhilarating, particularly in
aerobatics.
However, all was not sugar
and spice. The cockpit was
claustrophobic in the extreme,
as it was small and narrow, and
it was enclosed by a cumber-
some hood, which was quite
difficult to open from the inside.
Once settled in the cockpit, I
became very aware of the char-
acteristic smell that pervaded
all German aircraft; it somehow
reminded me of almonds and
was strong but not sickly.
The reflector gunsight was very
intrusive in that cramped environ-
ment and was heavily padded
(obviously, for safety). The for-
ward view on the ground was
terrible, so on takeoff, I was
advised to raise the tail as
quickly as possible. This could
be done fairly abruptly without
fear of the airscrew hitting
the airfield surface because
the inverted-vee engine’s
high thrust line gave ample
clearance. The airplane had to
be flown off, as any attempt
to pull it off early resulted in
aileron snatching because the
wing slats opened unevenly.
For this reason, to shorten the
takeoff run, 15 degrees of flap
were recommended.
Once the Bf was airborne, The climb was at a steep angle; An airplane’s stalling charac-
the main wheels retracted quickly, stability proved excellent in the teristics tell a lot about its “inner
but the electrically actuated longitudinal and lateral planes self,” and the 109 was no excep-
airscrew pitch changing was and was almost neutral direction- tion. At about 20mph (30km/h)
slow. The flaps were raised manu- ally. Control harmony was poor above stall speed and with the
ally by means of the outer of two because the rudder was light, the aircraft “clean,” the stall was pre-
concentrically mounted wheels ailerons moderately light, and the ceded by elevator stick buffeting
to the pilot’s left; the inner wheel elevators extremely heavy. Con- and the opening of the slats; this
adjusted tailplane incidence. trol harmony in a fighter should was accompanied by unpleasant
Thus, the wheels could be moved be achieved with light ailerons, aileron snatching as the slats
simultaneously to counteract the slightly heavier elevator, and the opened unevenly. The stall itself
trim change as the flaps came up. rudder heaviest. was fairly gentle: The nose fell off,

WW II Fighters 51
FLYING THE BF 109

held on the stick, or it can be trimmed out, but it is
slightly surprising initially.
When you maneuver above 500km/h, two
hands are required for a more aggressive perfor-
mance. Either that or get on the trimmer to help.
Despite this heavying up, it is still quite easy to get
5G at these speeds.
The rudder is effective and of medium feel up to
500km/h. It becomes heavier above this speed, but
regardless, the lack of rudder trim is not a problem
for the type of operations we carry out with this
airplane. Initial acceleration is rapid up to about
560km/h—particularly with nose down. After that,
the 109 starts to become a little reluctant, and you
have to be fairly determined to get over 600 km/h.
Contemporary Comparisons
First, let me say that all my comments are based
on operations below 10,000 feet and at power
settings not exceeding 40 inches and 2,600rpm.
I like the airplane, and with familiarity, I think it
will give most of the Allied fighters I have flown a
hard time—particularly in a close, hard-turning,
low-speed dogfight. It will definitely outmaneu-
ver a P-51 in this type of fight because its roll rate
and slow-speed characteristics are much better.
The Spitfire, on the other hand, is more of a prob-
lem for the 109, and I feel it is a superior close-in
fighter. Having said that, the aircraft are closely
matched that pilot ability would probably be the
deciding factor.
At higher speeds, the P-51 is definitely superior,
and provided the Mustang kept its energy up and
refused to dogfight, it would be relatively safe
against the 109.
Other factors affecting the 109 as a combat
aircraft include the cramped cockpit. Although
the view out (in flight) is better than you might
expect, this is quite a tiring working environment.
The profusion of canopy struts is not a problem.
In addition, the small cockpit makes you feel more
a part of the airplane, and the overall smaller
dimensions make you more difficult to spot.
There’s no doubt that when you are flying the
109 and you see the crosses on the wings, you feel
aggressive. If you are in an Allied fighter, it is very
intimidating to see this dangerous little airplane
turning in on you!
Landing
Returning to the circuit, it is almost essential to
join for a run and break. Over the field, break
from 50 feet, up and over with 4G onto the down-
wind leg. Speed at 250km/h or less, gear select

COMBAT WARRIOR, THE HISTORICAL VIEW (CONT'D.)

and the left wing dropped about
10 degrees. These characteristics
were accentuated in the landing
configuration.
The landing approach was
quite steep, but elevator felt
very positive, which was just as
well, for a substantial change
of attitude was called for in the
flare before touchdown. Even
after ground contact, the lift did
not spill rapidly, and on rough
terrain, ballooning or bouncing
were common.
Flying formation was easy
with the crisp ailerons, rather
heavy elevators, and good engine
response to throttle movement.
Aerobatics, however, were more
difficult because of the elevator
heaviness and the slat snatching
at the top of loops; this was often
remarked on by young student
pilots captured and questioned
at the end of the war, and all were
critical of the aircraft’s landing
idiosyncrasies. It must be remem-
bered, however, that pilot training
in Germany during WW II was
neglected to an incredible degree,
as the pilot schools were directly
subordinate to the air fleet com-
manders, who regarded the in-
structors as reserve pilots there
to top off frontline units. The ef-
fect was that, by 1944, Luftwaffe
fighter pilots were being sent into
combat with only 160 hours flight
time, whereas their British and
American counterparts had 360
and 400 hours, respectively.
I was not overly impressed
with the Emil, and yet it has
earned a considerable stature
in the eyes of many aviation his-
torians and has charisma in the
minds of many Luftwaffe pilots.
This reputation rests mostly on its
superiority to its mediocre (and
often downright inferior) opposi-
tion, especially on the Eastern
Front, where the German pilots
outshone the Russians’ tactics—
although not their courage—and
amassed huge kill scores. I know
only too well how easy it is to
get emotionally involved with an
airplane in which you have fought
and survived and to regard it with
the same uncritical affection as a
mother has for her child. But when
you’ve flown a wide range of other
fighters and become more analyti-
cal, your views are soon tempered
by reason. Certainly, the Bf 109E
was a good workhorse, but it was
not a thoroughbred like the Spit-
fire and Mustang.
The RAF Is Given
a Gustav—Gratis
Although the Emil was a very pro-
lific version of the Bf 109 series,
the most produced version was
the 109G, or “Gustav.” On July
21, 1944, a Bf 109G-6/U2 landed
in error at Manston Airfield in
the southeast of England and
was at once transferred to RAE
Farnborough, where the test pi-
lots gave it a thorough flight as-
sessment; it was also assessed
from engineering and armament
standpoints.
To me, the Bf 109E always
looked sinister, but the Gustav
seemed less so by virtue of its
rounded wingtips, cantilevered
tailplane and the Galland, clear-
vision cockpit canopy that was
added to the G-10 and subse-
quent variations. It was powered
by a 1,475hp DB 605AM and
was armed with two .50-caliber
(13mm) fuselage-mounted ma-
chine guns (300 rounds per gun)
and one 20mm cannon with 60
rounds firing through the air-
screw spinner. Other differences
from the Emil were its smaller
rudder and retractable tailwheel.
These changes increased its
loaded weight to 1,422 pounds
and increased its wing loading;
it was also more than 30mph
faster and indeed could enhance
its top speed significantly for
a short period by using GM-1
nitrous-oxide injection. I would
like to have seen a more efficient
method of operating the flaps,
other than by the laborious wind-
ing of a large hand wheel, but
this didn’t materialize.
At RAE Farnborough, despite
our having a considerable supply
of spares from the many 109s
that crashed in England, we did
not find our captured Bf 109G-
6 easy to maintain. Part of our
problem involved the electric
systems used to actuate the
ancillary controls; we were used
to hydraulic systems. But there
was also the poor quality of the
rubber tires and the customary
ineffective German brakes.
The armament of the 109
was of particular interest to RAE
scientists, who agreed that the
20mm cannon firing through
the airscrew spinner—as intro-
duced in the 109D—was a potent
weapon, both with regard to
destructive power and ease of
sighting. This could not be cop-
ied in British fighters powered

52 FlightJournal.com
to DOWN, activate the button, and feel the gear
come down asymmetrically. Check the mechanical
indicators (ignore the electric position indicators),
set the pitch to 11:30; fuel, both boost pumps ON.
If you have less than half a tank of fuel and the
rear pump is not on, the engine may stop in the
three-point attitude.
Radiator flaps to full open, and wing flaps to 10
or 15 degrees. As the wing passes the threshold
downwind, take all the power off and roll into the
final turn, cranking the flap like mad as you go. It
is important to set up a high rate of descent and a
curved approach.
The aircraft is reluctant to lose speed around
finals, so ideally, you should initiate the turn quite
slowly at about 190 to 200km/h. Slats normally
deploy halfway around the final, but you, the pilot,
are not aware that they have come out. The idea
is to keep turning with the speed slowly bleeding
and roll the wings level at about 10 feet at the right
speed and just starting to transition to the three-
point attitude. The last speed I usually see is just
about 180; I’m normally too busy after that!
The 109 is one of the most controllable aircraft
that I have flown at slow speed around finals, and
provided you don’t get too slow, it is one of the
easiest to three-point. It just feels right. The only
problem is getting too slow. If this happens, you
very quickly end up with a high sink rate and with
absolutely no ability to check or flare to round out.
It literally falls out of your hands!
Once down on three points, it tends to stay
down, but be careful; the forward view has gone to
hell, and you cannot allow any swing to develop.
Initial detection is more difficult—the aircraft
being completely unpredictable—and can diverge
in any direction. Sometimes, the most immaculate
three-pointer will turn into a potential disaster
halfway through the landing roll. Other times, a
ropy landing will roll as straight as an arrow!
When we started flying the 109, both my father
and I did a lot of practice circuits on the grass
before we tried a paved strip. Operating off grass is
preferred. Although it is a much smoother ride on
the hard surface—directionally—the aircraft is defi-
nitely more sensitive. Without doubt, you cannot
afford to relax until you are stationary. You would
never make a rolling exit from a runway in the 109.
To summarize, I like the airplane very much,
and I can understand why many Luftwaffe aces
had such a high regard and preference for it. Hans
Dittes has completed a fantastic restoration and
should be complimented on returning “Black 2” to
the air. J

by Merlin engines, as these had

a vee layout; the Daimler-Benz
engines were inverted-vee and
so could accommodate the can-
non between the cylinder-head
blocks. The later introduction of
the 30mm cannon in the 109G-
6/U4 caused concern because
of its formidable destructive
power, but tests showed that,
if fired slowly, it was unreliable
and inaccurate at ranges beyond
650 yards (600 meters). The
30mm cannon was more suited
to bomber interception than
fighter-versus-fighter combat, so
for the latter, it was replaced by
the faster-firing 20mm Mauser raid with instructions to ram the buffs for years to come. gear problems all had known,
cannon with 150 rounds. bombers as a last resort. Of that But the Bf 109’s deficiencies simple production fixes. Perhaps
The Bf 109 was heavily involved German force, only 15 returned. almost equal its fabulous assets. Prof. Willy Messerschmitt and
in two significant but vastly dif- The Luftwaffe lost 11,000 of the Luftwaffe generals were
ferent operations that produced Synopsis these thoroughbred fighting ma- too busy patting themselves on
contrasting results. The first took The more than 33,000 Bf 109s chines in takeoff and landing ac- the back and counting Bf 109
place in Russia on July 5, 1943, produced from 1938 to 1945 cidents, most of them at the end victories to find time to listen to
when the Battle of Kursk devel- gave the Luftwaffe an abun- of the war when they needed the pilots or to digest the signifi-
oped into the largest and fiercest dance of continuously updated them most. The inexcusably poor cance of the Bf 109’s accident
air battle of all time; 432 Soviet air weapons. They were capable visibility from the cockpit greatly rates.
airplanes were shot down versus of beating their implacable en- reduced their pilots’ ability to The Bf 109 was, indeed, a
the loss of only 26 Luftwaffe air- emies, even in the terrible condi- fight. The snatching of the auto- prolific, necessary, and timely
craft. The second operation was tions of Russia and North Africa. matic wing slats not only caused fighter but was not as great as
in Germany on April 7, 1945, when Many Luftwaffe Bf 109 pilots many of the numerous ground the Spitfire, the Mustang, or the
120 Bf 109Gs, piloted mainly by racked up scores in the hun- accidents but also contributed Hellcat, which all had many fewer
students, took off to intercept dreds that will dazzle the minds to a great many aerial accidents. vices for the wartime pilots to
a U.S. Army Air Forces (USAAF) of air historians and fighter The slat, canopy, and landing- overcome.

WW II Fighters 53
Flying the
Me 262
WILLY MESSERSCHMITT’S MASTERPIECE
BY CAPT. ERIC BROWN

Both the RAF and USAAF brought Me 262s home and put them through extensive test programs.
Many secrets of swept-wing design came from these aircraft.
 After the war, Germany was awash with Schwalbes that the Luftwaffe had tried to hide
but finally abandoned. (Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

When RAF Pilot Officer Frank Whittle patented the first practical turbojet
engine in 1930, it marked the advent of the Jet Age. The Germans embraced
the new idea so enthusiastically that the first test runs of the British Whittle
Unit and the German Heinkel S2 (both centrifugal compressor-type engines)
took place in 1937. Thereafter, the Germans raced ahead and, on August 27,
1939, flew the world’s first true jet airplane: the Heinkel 178. On April 2, 1941,
the world’s first twinjet airplane—the Heinkel 280—flew.

Initial German jet-propulsion activity was
mainly undertaken by the Heinkel company,
but interest soon spread, and in the fall of
1938, Willy Messerschmitt initiated design
studies for an airframe to be powered by the
revolutionary new axial-flow gas turbines being
developed by the Bayerische Motoren Werke
(BMW). The Messerschmitt team favored a
single-engine layout but realized that a long
intake duct would degrade engine performance,
so it opted for a twin-engine design. At first, it
planned to install the engines inside the wing
roots so that various engine designs could
be more easily arranged to get the correct
center of gravity (CG) position, but to simplify
spar design, that was changed to underwing
mounting.
BMW then informed Messerschmitt that
its engines would be larger and heavier than
originally predicted, so to resolve the resulting
CG difficulties, the team added swept outer-
wing panels. It was thus that sweepback was
introduced fortuitously into the 262 rather than
deliberately, but the Germans were already well
aware of the advantage it offered.
By early 1941, the three prototypes of the
262 were ready to fly, but no jet engines were
available, so Messerschmitt decided to fit the
first prototype with a 1200hp Junkers Jumo
21OG piston-engine and propeller for its first
flight test. In this form, on April 18, 1941, the
tailwheel-equipped Me 262 made its first
flight. Subsequent tests proved encouraging,
and in February 1942, two BMW 003 turbojets
were fitted, and on March 30, 1942, the first
flight test powered by both jets and the piston
engine was made by the Messerschmitt chief
test pilot Fritz Wendel. This flight could have
easily ended in disaster, as the jet engines
failed at 165 feet on takeoff, but the pilot was
able to struggle back to a safe landing on the
power of the piston engine.
FLYING THE ME 262
Although history books
claim that 10.NJG 11 used the
two-seat, radar-equipped Me
262B-1a/U1 as night fighter
in the defense of Berlin, some
ex-Luftwaffe pilots remember
them only being used as train-
ers for new 262 pilots. (Photo
courtesy of Stan Piet)
One Me 262A-2a survivor that escaped the scrap pile resides at the Aerospace Museum in Cosford, United Kingdom. (Photo courtesy of Eric Brown)
On July 18, 1942, the third 262 prototype
with two 1,848-pound, static-thrust preproduc-
tion Jumo 004A-O engines and Wendel again at
the controls achieved all-jet flight.
Previously, taxiing trials on the tailwheel-
equipped prototype had shown that the tail was
being blanked off by the fuselage, and thus, el-
evator and rudder control were ineffective up to
takeoff speed. To overcome this drawback, Wen-
del had to tap the brakes at takeoff speed to raise
the tail and lift off. After the first all-jet flights,
the team replaced the tailwheel with tricycle
landing gear and enlarged the wing because of
airflow breakaway along the center section.
On April 22, 1943, the 262 was flown by Luft-
waffe Gen. Adolf Galland, who was so impressed
that he persuaded the Air Ministry to transfer
most of Messerschmitt’s production from the
Bf 109 to the Me 262. Although the aircraft was
ordered into production on June 5, 1943, the Al-
lied bombing on August 17, 1943, of the Mess-
erschmitt factory at Regensburg caused delays.
Another factor was the fixation of Field Marshal
Milch (head of the German Air Ministry) on
increasing the production figures for older and
simpler aircraft to impress Hitler and his apathy
toward the more complex jet aircraft.
In June 1943, the first Me 262 with tricycle
landing gear was flown, and on November 26,
a flying demonstration of the 262 was made be-
fore Hitler at Insterburg. He immediately seized
on the idea of using it to carry a 1,100-pound
(500kg) bomb load against England, and so pro-
duction was divided between the fighter version
and the fighter-bomber version. This fateful de-
cision cost Germany dearly because the war had
progressed to a stage where the Luftwaffe needed
a massive fighter force if the Third Reich was
to survive the onslaught of Allied airpower. In
February 1944, another heavy Allied raid on the
Regensburg factory caused further setbacks. Small, tight fitting, yet com-
fortable, the Me 262’s most
unique cockpit feature was
No Aircraft Is Perfect the control column. Equipped
I made my first flight in a 262 at Schleswig-Jagel with several controls, the
in a captured Me 262B-1a/U1 two-seat night- column proved to be the
precursor to the modern jet
fighter fitted with SN-2 Lichtenstein radar. This control column. (Photo by Dan
was not by choice; I would have preferred to Patterson)
start with the single-seat fighter, but I knew
that it might be my only chance to fly the rare
two-seater, so I took it. Having subsequently
flown only the single-seater, I realized that the
night-fighter version must have been difficult to
cope with because it had a 200mph (322km/h)
safety speed on takeoff, a reduced rate of climb,
WW II Fighters 57
FLYING THE ME 262

Messerschmitt Me 262 A-1b, Heinz Bär, EJG 2.

(Illustration by Tom Tullis)

a reduction of some 37mph (60km/h) in cruise
speed owing to the antler-type antenna on
its nose, and the Luftwaffe pilots were flying a
development aircraft of limited endurance on
dark strips lit only by searchlights and fires from
bombed German cities.
In general, the Me 262 was a superb machine
but not without its shortcomings. Basically,
the airplane was underpowered, and this was
reflected in its slow acceleration on takeoff;
low-pressure tires for operation from grass air-
fields compounded the problem. The Jumo 004
engines required slow throttle movements to
avoid compressor stalls, especially when above
20,000 feet. No speed brakes were fitted, and the
throttling restrictions made formation-flying
imprecise and made the airplane difficult to
decelerate.
The 262’s lack of an ejection seat hardly
contributed to its pilot’s peace of mind, and
the cockpit tended to overheat even when the
temperature-control lever was in the “off” posi-
tion. The heated windscreen was prone to crack-
ing, and this usually occurred just a few minutes
after the heat was switched off.
Other annoyances included the nosewheel’s
tendency to swivel broadside during takeoffs
and landings unless the plane was fitted with a
modified Kroefte wheel fork. A much more seri-
ous problem was the matter of an emergency
landing with only one engine operating. So
many fatal crashes resulted from the 262’s lack
of power and pilot inexperience that the air staff
ordered that single-engine emergency landings
be made without lowering the landing gear.
Such belly landings reduced the fatalities, but

FLYING THE 262
When the swept-wing Me 262 fighter arrived on the scene in Octo-
ber 1944, it was in a class of its own. As a British test pilot, I con-
sider it the most formidable aircraft of WW II, and I was fortunate
enough to fly it in postwar Germany and at test facilities in England.
Before I made my first flight in the 262, I gathered some factual
information from Messerschmitt’s chief test pilot. I learned that the
axial-flow Jumo 004 Jet engines ran on 87-octane gasoline with
a 5 percent mix of lubricating oil, and they were very sensitive to
throttle movement. They had a periodic inspection life of 10 hours
and a scrap life of a mere 25 hours. Single-engine safety speed
was high, and an engine failure below that speed meant a very
rapid loss of control and a certain flamer crash. I also learned that
the basic aircraft flew well, and that high Mach number flight had
not really been extensively researched, owing to the time pressure
to get the fighter to the production acceptance stage and a
shortage of experienced test pilots.
To my eye, the 262 had exciting yet sinister lines that reminded
me of a shark. Once in the cockpit, the layout struck me as neat
and orderly, but starting the Riedel two-stroke starter motor
required considerable ambidexterity. Taxiing called for restrained
movement of the throttles to ensure that the jet-pipe temperature
did not exceed 1202°F (650°C), but once 6,000rpm was reached,
the governor cut in and throttle movement could be accelerated.
As on all German aircraft, the main wheel brakes were operated
by toe action, and a hand-operated nosewheel brake lever was on
the main instrument panel’s left side.
The takeoff preparations simply involved trimming the elevators
nose-heavy and setting the flaps at 20 degrees as indicated on
each flap’s upper surface. There was an elevator-trim gearing lever
mounted on the control column, and it had a coarse setting for
takeoff and landing and a fine setting for high-speed flight.
After lining up the aircraft on the runway (brakes on), I opened
up the engines to 8,500rpm and made sure that the Zwiebel
(onion)—as the exhaust cone had been dubbed—protruded from
each orifice. I then applied full power (8,700rpm) and checked
the jet-pipe temperature, burner pressure, and fuel pressure. A 5
percent drop in fuel pressure meant that takeoff would be aborted.
At full power, fumes or smoke invariably penetrated the cockpit,
and as the canopy had to be closed for takeoff, the polluted
environment was somewhat disturbing. The nosewheel was raised
at 100mph (160km/h), and the aircraft pulled off gently at 124mph
(200km/h). Once airborne, I raised the landing gear, reduced flap
deflection by 10 degrees, and immediately eased the stick forward
until momentum built up to that all-important single-engine safety
speed of 180mph (290km/h). The flaps could then be fully raised.
The safety speed must surely have been engraved on every
262 pilot’s heart. The takeoff run was long and felt as though the
airplane were underpowered. Acceleration to safety speed was
slow, so there were some nail-biting moments. One of the main
causes of engine failure was the Zwiebel detaching itself from its
mounting, sealing off the exhaust orifice and producing a flameout.
This created tremendous asymmetric drag that invariably resulted
in the aircraft skidding sideways. with the tailplane blanked by the
fuselage. The resulting violent diving turn required full rudder to
counteract the swing and roll, and backward stick pressure had to

58 FlightJournal.com
IT WAS UNDOUBTEDLY HIGHLY SUCCESSFUL AGAINST ALLIED BOMBERS BUT
LESS SO AGAINST ENEMY FIGHTERS BECAUSE OF ITS HIGH-SPEED SIGHTING
PROBLEMS, WHICH WERE EXACERBATED BY ITS LACK OF SPEED BRAKES.
fire often broke out from ruptured fuel tanks or These units were more numerous than the pure
the Riedel starter-engine fuel container. fighter units by the beginning of 1945, but their
lack of effective bomb-sight systems diminished
Into Action their capabilities. By far, the most successful use
The first semi-operational Me 262 fighter unit of the 262 was short-range photographic recon-
was Trials Unit 262 (EK 262), and in September naissance, and in December 1944, a special unit
1944, it completed its evaluation work; on Octo- made up of unarmed Me 262A-1a/U3 aircraft
ber 3, 1944, the first accredited fighter wing was equipped with two vertical Rb 50130 cameras
formed by two squadrons of about 20 Me 262A- was formed. The jet’s speed made it virtually
1a aircraft and became operational. Initially, the impossible to catch.
pilots had problems with scoring hits at high To increase hits in high-speed fighter attacks The initial 262 prototypes
were tail-draggers, but the
speeds, so they slowed down and lost their main the 262 was fitted with 12 devastatingly lethal
plane was quickly redesigned
advantage. The low-muzzle velocity of the can- 55mm unguided rocket projectiles under each for a nose wheel. (Photo cour-
non exacerbated the problem. On November 8, wing. This version was designated “Me 262A- tesy of Peter Bowers)
1944, wing commander Maj. Walter
Nowotny, a highly decorated, 258-kill
national hero, was apparently shot
down by a British Tempest squadron,
and the wing was disbanded having
made 22 kills for the loss of 17 Me
262s. Some of Nowotny’s pilots went
to a new fighter wing (JG 7), but others
formed a new fighter training unit with
Me 262B-1a two-seat trainers.
In September 1944, in accordance
with Hitler’s edict, the first Me 262A-
2a fighter-bomber units were formed,
and they had their own training unit.

be firmly applied to keep the nose up. This

action had to be taken within two seconds
or else the situation would be disastrous. The rudder force
involved was high.
Initial climb speed was 286mph (460km/h), and from 185mph
(300km/h), the 262 really took the bit between its teeth and became
a thoroughly exciting airplane to fly. The Jumo 004 turbojets tended
to be temperamental above 13,000 feet (4,000m) at which altitude
the fuel pumps had to be switched on to sustain combustion, and
above 29,500 feet (9,000m) it was considered inadvisable to reduce
rpm below 6,000. Otherwise, a flameout was certain and you could
not attempt to restart it above 13, 000 feet (4,000m).
Our flight tests at RAE [Royal Aircraft Establishment] soon
confirmed that the German performance figures were by no means
extravagant, but we never quite attained the enemy claim of 568mph
with our war-weary machine. It was obvious, however, that this was
an aircraft that was some 100mph faster than any contemporary
Allied fighter. Initial climb rate was 4,000fpm, and range with 1,800
liters of fuel was 652 miles at 30,000 feet. This all added up to an
impressive package, and with the addition of the powerful armament
of four 30mm nose cannon, it became downright formidable.
Handling tests revealed that the Me 262 was a very responsive
and docile airplane over its entire speed range and had pleasant
harmony of control. Stick force per G was six pounds at mid-CG,
and the roll rate was 360 degrees in 3.8 seconds at 400mph at
5,000 feet.
At RAE, the effect of the 262’s 28-degree wing sweep in delaying
the compressibility stall at high Mach numbers was assessed, and
to do this, we had to compute the indicated airspeed figures into
true Mach numbers as no Machmeters were fitted in any German
operational aircraft. However, our flight tests gave the Me 262 a
tactical Mach number of 0.82 and a limiting safe Mach number of
0.86. In dives from 30,000 feet, the nose started to drop at 0.83
Mach and a 30-pound pull on the stick was required to maintain
the 25-degree dive angle. As the Mach number increased, a violent
buffeting set in, and the aircraft became progressively nose-heavy,
so a pull force of about 100 pounds was necessary at 0.86 Mach
to keep the dive angle constant. Recovery was affected only by
altitude decrease until the denser air reduced the transonic speed
because there weren’t any airbrakes fitted to aid that process.
These figures were considerably better than those that could
be achieved with piston-engine aircraft or with the early Allied jets,
but the Spitfire was the exception with a tactical Mach number of
0.80 and a limiting Mach of 0.86. It exhibited characteristics quite
similar to those of the 262, but we had to use a much steeper dive
angle to attain such figures.
With a final approach speed of 125mph (200km/h), landing the
Me 262 was straightforward, but without airbrakes, this meant a
long, shallow drag in approach was necessary. Until it accelerated to
climbing speed, the plane was vulnerable during the approach and
just after takeoff, but in full flight, the 262 was virtually untouchable.
(Reprinted from Flight Journal’s WW II Fighters, Winter 2000.)

WW II Fighters 59
FLYING THE ME 262

THE 262 IN DETAIL

The Me 262A-19, unofficially named Schwalbe (“Swallow”), was
the initial production aircraft, but the bomber version was more
appropriately known in the Luftwaffe as Sturmvogel (“Storm Bird”).
The actual man-hours taken to build each airframe was about
9,000, as opposed to the planned 6,000 because of transport and
supply difficulties that arose from decentralized manufacturing
mandated by concentrated Allied bombing of the main facilities.
The Me 262A is a low-wing cantilever monoplane with a
one-piece 40-foot, 11 1⁄2-inch-span wing fitted into a recess in
the underside of its fuselage. From the fuselage, the wings were
swept back 28 degrees at the leading edge and swept forward
at the trailing edge between the fuselage and the jet nacelles.
The wings were extremely thin—only 10 percent thickness. It
wasn’t until 1947, when the Bell X-1 flew, that another wing that
thin and with such good transonic airflow was flown. There were
Friese-type ailerons in two sections on each wing and slotted
flaps inboard of the ailerons that had a maximum extension of 60
degrees and a backward movement of about 5 inches. Full-span
automatic leading-edge slats of the type later used on the F-86
were also fitted. The fuselage was an all-metal, semi-monocoque
structure of a nearly triangular section with rounded corners; the
triangular shape was chosen to provide an aerodynamic fairing
for the retracted main wheels of the landing gear. The base of the
triangle was wide enough to accommodate the wheel wells. This
triangular cross-section also gave the pilot a good field of vision
and minimized the induced drag between fuselage and wing. The
entire cockpit section was constructed as a separate, completed
unit—a “tub,” if you will—that was inserted into the basic fuselage
from the bottom, which greatly aided production efficiency.
The cantilever tailplane was mounted halfway up the fin. The
rudder and elevators were balanced, and a geared tab was fitted
to the rudder, which was also used for trim. There were trim tabs
on the elevators with two gearings available to the pilot on his
control column: one for takeoff and general flying and another
for high-speed maneuvering. The landing gear retracted inward
under hydraulic power, and there were hydraulic brakes for all
three wheels—the main wheels by foot pedal toe pressure and the
nosewheel by a handbrake.
A small Riedel two-stroke motor built into each jet unit used
the same type of fuel as the main engines did. The cockpit
had a sideways-hinged canopy, and the pilot was protected by
15mm armor plate front and rear and a 90mm bullet-resistant
windscreen. Armament consisted of four 30mm Mk 108 cannons
in the nose, aimed to converge at 400 to 500 yards. The upper
guns had 100 rounds per gun and the lower guns 80 rounds
per gun. At the later stages of the war, the fighter version was
fitted with 24 55mm unguided rockets—12 under each wing.
The bomber version had two external bomb carriers under the
fuselage and could carry either two 551-pound (250kg) bombs or
two 1,100-pound (500kg) bombs. Drop tanks (170 gallons each)
could be fitted on the bomb carriers in lieu of bombs, and they
extended the short range by 50 percent.

1b” but did not enter squadron service
until March 11, 1945. By that time, the
writing was on the wall for the Third
Reich, and as one of its final despairing
gestures, on February 5, 1945, it formed
JV 44—an elite squadron of its leading
fighter aces under Lt. Gen. Adolf Gal-
land. It began with 16 Me 262s and 15
pilots, but the numbers increased as
pilots from disbanded units flew their
aircraft to join JV 44.
In the final analysis, how did the Me
262 fare in combat? It was undoubtedly
highly successful against Allied bomb-
ers but less so against enemy fighters
because of its high-speed sighting
problems, which were exacerbated by
its lack of speed brakes, by its vulner-
ability during takeoffs and landings, by
its temperamental engines, and by its
lack of experienced fighter pilots. But
when flown by experienced pilots, the
Germans scored 45 kills in just over a
month of operations with a 33 percent
loss of aircraft in combat and normal
operations. 

60 FlightJournal.com
 BOOKSHELF
Your Source for the Latest & Best Aviation Books
ORDER BY PHONE: 1-800-895-4585

20% OFF STORIES FROM THE COCKPIT

any book or CORKY MEYER’S FLIGHT JOURNAL:
26% OFF A Test Pilot’s Tales of Dodging Disasters - Just in Time
Meyer An electrifying tale of a very passionate and patriotic man, his
3 or more wife and family, and of course his numerous sensational close calls as
books
an experimental fighter test pilot. 7 x 10, 256 pgs, 200 photos, SC Item
# SP093P .............................................................. $34.95 POD Book
From this ad or our website
No Coupon Code Necessary THE WRONG STUFF: Flying on
offer ends 11/30/17 the Edge of Disaster Moore
This book is a collection of stories about pilots
John Moore met, people who touched his life and
AUTHOR SIGNED EDITION (While They Last!) those who list their life doing what they loved--
flying planes. 6 x 9, 206 pgs, 100 photos, SC,
AVIATION RECORDS Item # SP215P ........................ $22.95 POD Book
IN THE JET AGE: The
Planes and Technologies
Behind the Breakthroughs AUTHOR SIGNED EDITION (While They Last!)
Flanagan This book takes
you through the annals WAVE-OFF!: A History of LSOs and
of aviation history with
spellbinding stories of world-record flights and Ship-Board Landings
explanations of how advanced technology played Powell This book explains the exciting world of the Landing Signal Officer (LSO)
a pivotal role in making these records happen. aboard aircraft carriers from 1922 through today’s modern jet and rotary-wing
10 x 10, 192 pgs, 275 b/w & color photos. HC carrier operations. It also covers naval aircraft and equipment development over the
Item # SP230S .........$39.95 “Special Edition” years. 10 x 10, 192 pgs, 270 photos. HC Item # SP235S ............................. $39.95
“Special Edition”
BUILDING THE P-51
MUSTANG: The Story
of Manufacturing North SHADY LADY: Flying the U-2 Spy Plane
American’s Legendary Bishop Authored by a pilot with over 1,500 hours flying a U-2,
World War II Fighter in this book sheds new light on a world that is largely unknown
Original Photos O’Leary outside the tight fraternity of U-2 pilots and support personnel
The author uses more than 300 original photos with a revealing and detailed account of the trials and challenges
culled from his personal archive of official North of flying this dangerous aircraft. 6 x 9, 304 pgs, 100 photos. SC
American and USAAF images, many of which Item # AD909 ................................................................... $24.95
NEW
have never before been seen. 11 x 8-1/2, 240 pgs,
350 photos. SC Item # SP190 ....................$34.95
BREWSTER F2A BUFFALO AND CLEAR THE DECK!: BLACK WIDOW COMBAT CHRONICLES
EXPORT VARIANTS Dann & Aircraft Carrier Accidents Thompson Dramatic first-hand accounts by the
Ginter This is the ultimate history of WWII Graff pilots, radar observers, and gunners who flew combat
of the Brewster F2A Buffalo, the Puts readers one of the most missions the Northrop P-61 Black Widow, America’s
US Navy’s first monoplane fighter hectic and hazardous places first dedicated WWII-era night fighter. This volume
aircraft. Allied flyers in WWII on earth--the deck of a is filled with many action-packed eye-witness
N E W called it the “flying coffin”, but wartime aircraft carrier. 8.5 accounts, as well as numerous wartime photos. 11 x
in the hands of Finnish aces, x 8.5, 132 pgs, 207 photos, 8.5, 112 pgs, 152 photos, SC Item # SS638 ..........$19.95
the Buffalo was wildly successful. 8-1/2 x 11, 176 pgs, SC, Item # SP119P ..... $19.95
391 photos. SC Item # GB586.......................... $39.95 POD Book POD = Print On Demand book
FROM BATS TO RANGERS see PRINT ON DEMAND BOX for info.
Romano & Herndon The VQ-2
history and all worldwide
events surrounding it are LUFTWAFFE EAGLE: From the Me109 to DORNIER Do 215: Germany’s Strategic
very well described and the Me262 Schuck Walter Schuck presents an Reconnaissance Aircraft & Night Fighter
documented with 180 b/w and insider’s view to fighter combat in WWII, and Olrog This new in-depth book features
444 color photos, most never describes life in the German Luftwaffe during hundreds of rare photos, color profiles, details
NEW published before. Color the years of the Third Reich. Supplemented on camouflage and unit markings, technical
profiles provide very useful with photographs from his personal and performance data, as well as production
information for the benefit of both modelers and collection, maps, and unit insignia, this is a and loss lists on this strategic reconnaissance
aviation historians. 8-1/2 x 11, 240 pgs, 660 photos. must-have combat memoir. 6 x 9, 260 pgs, 250 aircraft and night fighter. 9 x 12, 280 pgs, 350
SC Item # GB589...........................................$69.95 photos. SC Item # AD186 ............. $18.95 photos, HC Item # CP752 ......... $69.95

PRINT-ON- Print-on-demand (POD) books are printed as they are ordered and shipped to you directly from the printer.
The inside pages are printed in black and white (most books were originally due to the historic nature of the photos) with the cover being full color.
DEMAND POD books will ship separately from in-stock books in your order. Our complete satisfaction guarantee also applies to POD books.
SP097P R-4360: PRATT & WHITNEY’S MAJOR MIRACLE White 608 pgs, SC ........ $74.95 SP017P DOUGLAS DC-6 & DC-7-ALT Vol. 4 Gann 102 pgs, 150 photos. SC ............... $19.95
SP042P MAGNESIUM OVERCAST: The Story of the Convair B-36 272 pgs, SC ..... $39.95 SP475P LOCKHEED BLACKBIRDS-WBT Vol.10 Landis & Jenkins 108 pgs, SC ........... $19.95
SP056P NORTH AMERICAN XB-70 VALKYRIE-WBT Vol. 34 Jenkins & Landis SC $19.95 SP121P X-PLANE CRASHES Merlin & Moore 160 pgs, SC ............................................. $29.95
SP013P FAIRCHILD-REPUBLIC A/0A-10 WARTHOG-WBT Vol. 20 Jenkins SC ..... $19.95 SP146P FROM PROPS TO JETS Proctor, Machat, Kodera SC .......................................... $29.95
SP123P GUNSHIPS: The Story of Spooky, Shadow, Stinger and Spectre Mutza SC . $24.95 SP162P COLLECTING VINTAGE PLASTIC MODEL AIRPLANE KITS Kodera SC .. $29.95
SP478P DOUGLAS A-1 SKYRAIDER-WBT VOL. 13 Davis & Menard 104 pgs, SC ... $19.95 SP047P BOEING 377 STRATOCRUISER-ALT Vol. 9 Veronico, SC .................................. $19.95
SP003P B-24 NOSE ART NAME DIRECTORY Forman 192 pgs, 32 photos. SC ........ $29.95 SP029P MARTIN B-26 MARAUDER-WBT Vol. 29 Johnsen, SC ...................................... $19.95
SP151P LOCKHEED BLACKBIRD FAMILY Landis 128 pgs, SC ................................... $26.95 SP069P LOCKHEED F-104 STARFIGHTER-WBT Vol. 38 Upton, SC ............................ $19.95
SP403P B-17 NOSE ART NAME DIRECTORY Forman, SC ............................................ $14.95 SP091P SUKHOI SU-27 FLANKER-WBT Vol. 42 Gordon, SC ........................................ $19.95
SP037P LOCKHEED L-1011 TRISTAR-ALT Vol. 8 Upton, 104 pgs, SC .......................... $19.95 SP102P TUPOLEV TU-95 BEAR-WBT Vol. 43 Gordon, SC............................................. $19.95
SP019P CONVAIR B-36 PEACEMAKER-WBT VOL. 24 Jenkins 104 pgs, SC ................. $19.95 SP467P VOUGHT F4U CORSAIR-WBT Vol. 4 Tillman, SC ............................................ $19.95

Flight Journal Bookshelf | www.flightjournalstore.com

 PORTRAIT OF A WINNER

WE FLY THE
FW 190
BY CAPT. ERIC BROWN

PHOTO BY JOHN DIBBS/PLANEPICTURE.COM

62 FlightJournal.com
In the fall of 1937, the Technical Department of the German Air Ministry
decided to develop a replacement for the Messerschmitt 109. At the end of
the year, after discussions with Focke-Wulf’s chief designer Kurt Tank, the Air
Ministry awarded a contract to the company. The Ministry specified the need
for a fighter whose performance would be significantly better than that of
both the 109 and the British Spitfire.

WW II Fighters 63
PORTRAIT OF A WINNER
A captured G-3 model is
test-flown. (Photo courtesy
of Peter M. Bowers)
AS THE FW 190 CONSOLIDATED ITS SUPERI-
ORITY OVER ITS RAF CONTEMPORARIES, THE
MORALE OF SPITFIRE V SQUADRON PILOTS
WAS INEVITABLY AFFECTED.
Although the FW 190 V1 pro-
totype’s flight characteristics
were favorably regarded, its
pilots suffered from exhaust
fumes and very high tempera-
tures in the cockpit. (Photo
courtesy of Peter M. Bowers)
64 FlightJournal.com
Tank realized that he would require the most
powerful engine available to him, and this
requirement clearly pointed him toward the
18-cylinder, two-row radial BMW 139, which
offered 325 more horsepower than its nearest rival,
the 12-cylinder, in-line, liquid-cooled DB 601.
This decision surprised Luftwaffe officials but was
accepted because of the uncertainty of the future
supply of the Daimler-Benz engine (which had
previously been projected as the powerplant for
the 109 fighter, the twin-engine Me 110, Arado
240 fighter, and several other combat aircraft).
The Focke-Wulf design team began with
certain definite ideas: They would need a strong,
wide-track landing gear, both to withstand the
vertical velocity required of the new fighter/
bomber and also to avoid the severe directional
control problems that plagued the 109 during
takeoffs and landings. Tank also declared that
when he was a soldier in WW I, he had learned
that military equipment must be simple, robust,
reliable, and easy to maintain. He was determined
to apply those standards to the new aircraft—
designation “FW 190.”
It is interesting that Tank, who was also a
director of Focke-Wulf, was a famous test pilot
of his aircraft during WW II. Throughout this
article, you’ll notice where his understanding of
the real-life requirements of hard-pressed combat
pilots produced superior designs of cockpits,
visibility from the cockpit, landing gear, control
harmonies, and automatic systems—to name just
a few areas in which he excelled. With all of his
designs, his test-pilot experience allowed him to
work toward the reduction of the combat pilot’s
load as far as possible.
Powered by a fan-cooled 1,550hp BMW 139,
the prototype’s first flight took place at Bremen
airfield on June 1, 1939. It had a special ducted
spinner to reduce drag, but its engine was soon
found to be prone to overheating, so the ducted
spinner was replaced by a new—and unique—
snugly fitting NACA cowl with a cooling fan
geared to the propeller in the front of the cowl.
BMW was already test-running a new engine—
the 14-cylinder BMW 801—that was some
20 inches (50cm) longer and 180 pounds heavier,
and produced 100hp more than the BMW 139.
At this point, Focke-Wulf decided to concentrate
on this newer engine.
The installation of the BMW 801 required
some considerable modifications to the FW 190’s
basic airframe. The cockpit had to be moved
farther aft to compensate for the forward shift
in the center of gravity. Although this shrank
the cockpit, it provided more space up front for
fuselage armament. The increase in weight also
had to be compensated for by an increase in Another problem with the prototype’s large ducted spinner was that the rear row of the engine’s
wingspan and wing area. This change cost only cylinders overheated. Fitting an orthodox spinner helped solve this problem. (Photo courtesy of
Peter M. Bowers)
a 6mph (10km/h) loss in speed, but it improved
the rate of climb and reduced the turning circle.
After successful flights at Rechlin Test Center, the
German Air Ministry ordered 100 production
FW 190A-1s.
The FW 190A-1 was a small, low-wing mono-
plane powered by a 1,660hp BMW 801C-1
radial neatly faired into its slim fuselage, and its
extensively glazed cockpit canopy afforded an
excellent all-around view. The aircraft was built
of metal, had a stressed Duralumin skin, and was
armed with four .30-caliber (7.9mm) machine
guns. It was introduced to full-squadron service
in March 1941, and on September 27, it clashed
with Spitfire Vs for the first time and showed its
superiority in all respects except turning combat. The FW 190A-0 V7 was the first BMW 801-powered aircraft to have armament: two 7.9mm Rhein-
In January 1942, the FW 190A-2 became metall Borsig MG 17 machine guns in the upper deck and two in the wing roots. (Photo courtesy of
Peter M. Bowers)
operational with the improved BMW 801C-2
engine, two .30-caliber (7.9mm) machine guns
cowled above the engine, and two 20mm cannon
in the wing roots. Two more .30-caliber (7.9mm)
machine guns were often carried in the outboard
wing panels.
The first major production variant was the A-3;
it was powered by the 1,700hp BMW 801D-2,
and the 20mm MG FF cannon that had been in
the wing root was replaced by the much faster
firing MG 151/20mm cannon, which was moved
outboard of the propeller arc. The pilot had
more armor protection, and the cockpit canopy There were a couple of minor differences between the A-0 and the A-1 models. The A-1 had heavier
toggle latches to lock the cowl in place, and it also had a cartridge system to help jettison the canopy
could be jettisoned while in flight with the aid when flying at more than 250mph. (Photo courtesy of Peter M. Bowers)
of explosive bolts. The A-3 was a multipurpose
aircraft and was produced in fighter, fighter/
bomber, reconnaissance, torpedo/bomber, and
ground-attack variants. It entered service in
March 1942, by which time more than
250 FW 190s were being produced monthly.
From October 1942 to March 1943, 72 A-3s
were handed over to Turkey.
As the FW 190 consolidated its superiority
over its Royal Air Force (RAF) contemporaries, the
morale of Spitfire V squadron pilots was inevitably
affected. The British Air Ministry’s concern about
the situation soon bordered on desperation, and it
planned a commando raid on a Luftwaffe fighter
base in France to hijack a FW 190. Then fortune
favored the Allies when, at 2035 hours on June 23,
1942, a Luftwaffe pilot—after a brief encounter On June 23, 1942, the Allies had their first look at an FW 190A-3 when Arnim Faber mistakenly
landed his plane at RAF Pembrey, Wales, after battling the RAF. (Photo courtesy of Peter M. Bowers)

WW II Fighters 65
PORTRAIT OF A WINNER
The wide stance of the landing
gear made the FW’s ground
handling, takeoffs, and land-
ings much easier and safer
than those of the Messer-
schmitt 109. (Photo courtesy
of Peter M. Bowers)
The R6 version of the A-4 had
two Wfr.Gr.21 mortars at-
tached to its wing; they were
used to combat Allied bomber
formations. (Photo courtesy
of Peter M. Bowers)
66 FlightJournal.com
with Spitfires over the English Channel—became
disoriented and landed his FW 190A-3 at RAF
Pembrey in South Wales and not on what he
assumed was a German airfield on the Cherbourg
peninsula. Owing to the RAF Air Traffic Control’s
smart thinking, the pilot was left undisturbed to
taxi in and stop his engine before a controller
leapt onto the FW’s wing and held a flare pistol to
his head. Unbelievably, an intact example of the
enemy’s latest fighter was in RAF hands.
The A-3 was transported to the Royal Aircraft The FW 190A-5/U12 was one of two prototypes for the
Establishment (RAE) at Farnborough, where both A-7/R1 version that had twin MG 151 cannon trays under each
wing. (Photo courtesy of Peter M. Bowers)
the airframe and the engine were dismantled and
thoroughly analyzed before being reassembled for
10 days of flight testing, starting on July 3. The flight tests confirmed that the FW 190 was a truly
outstanding combat aircraft with a very high rate
of roll and impressive acceleration in the dive. Its
Achilles’ heel was in its violent accelerated stall
that could lead to a spin if it tried to outturn the
Spitfire. The tests also revealed that, above
25,000 feet, the newer Spitfire IX could outperform
the FW 190. This information was, of course,
rapidly transmitted to all Allied operational
fighter units; it was evident that the FW 190 pilots
preferred to fight by climbing and diving while the
Allied fighters were well advised to stick to level
turning combat.
In late summer 1942, the FW 190A-4 appeared
equipped with the MW-50 water/methanol injec- that greatly relieved the pilot’s responsibility to
tion system that could boost the BMW 801D-2 control airscrew pitch (rpm), fuel mixture, and
engine to 2,100hp for short periods. This was engine boost (throttle) in combat. In addition,
two years before production U.S. fighters had the engine’s two-speed supercharger shifted
water-injection systems. This variant also had automatically at about 21,000 feet, and control
better radio equipment, which necessitated the of the important oil-cooler flaps was automatic,
installation of a short radio mast on top of the fin. thus relieving the pilot of two more major cockpit
duties. The pilot needed only to keep his hand on
My Flight Testing of the the throttle and his eye on his assailant. In the Another variant of the A-5,
the U14, carried an LTF 5b
FW 190A-4 Begins heat of combat, it was easy for an Allied fighter torpedo on an adapted ETC
In the months of April, May, and June 1943, pilot to forget to move one or both of the other 501 fuselage rack. The fin was
during night operations, three more FW 190A-4s two required controls if he needed immediate full enlarged, and the tailwheel
gear was elongated to com-
landed at airfields in southeast England, and it power to beat his opponent. pensate for the torpedo’s
was in one of these that I did most of the flight The FW 190 also had electrically controlled oil- length. (Photo courtesy of
testing of this type at RAE Farnborough. I clearly cooler flaps, which had to be operated manually Peter M. Bowers)
recall the excitement with which I first examined
Kurt Tank’s masterpiece, which he himself called
the Würger (“butcher bird”); its functional yet
pleasing lines exuded an elegant lethality. It sat
high on the ground, and although the landing
gear appeared to be extraordinarily long, the
forward view was still rather better than that from
contemporary fighters. The somewhat narrow
cockpit had a semi-reclining seat—ideal for high-G
maneuvers—and the controls fell easily to hand.
In general, the cockpit layout was good. The
engine was controlled by an ingenious, advanced
Kommandogerät—a sort of electronic brain box

WW II Fighters 67
PORTRAIT OF A WINNER
on most fighters. In the heat of combat, this
feature—like the Kommandogerät—relieved the
pilot of operating two more small, difficult-to-
access switches. This avoided the risk of engine
burnout at the high power settings combat
required. It was a fighter pilot’s dream airplane.
The pilot was well protected from frontal
attack by the engine and by the sharply sloped
2-inch (50mm) armored glass windscreen; from
THE BIG RADIAL WAS PRIMED INTERNALLY
AND ALMOST INVARIABLY FIRED DURING
THE PROPELLER’S FIRST REVOLUTION.
the rear, protection came from its shaped 3/8-inch
(8mm) armored seatback, 1/2-inch (13mm) head-
and-shoulder armor, and 3/8-inch (8mm) plates
above and below the seatback and on each side.
All the ancillary controls were electrically
actuated by an array of pushbuttons, and a
particularly fine feature of the cockpit was the
outstanding view that it offered.
The BMW 801 was started by an inertia starter
energized by a 24-volt external supply or by the
68 FlightJournal.com
aircraft’s own battery. The big
radial was primed internally
and almost invariably
fired during the propeller’s
first revolution; it purred
smoothly as it ran.
With the wide-track
landing gear and good brakes,
taxiing was easy—unusually
so for a German aircraft—and
this allowed the airplane to
be swung from side to side
so that the pilot could see
what was ahead. Lining up for
takeoff, I moved the stick aft
to lock the tailwheel, applied
10 degrees of flap, and set the
elevator trimmer to neutral
and the propeller pitch to
auto. When I opened the throttle to 2,700rpm
and 47 inches manifold pressure (23.5 pounds of
boost), the torque swing to the left was easy to
hold with the rudder. The length of the takeoff
run was much the same as the Spitfire IX’s.
Rotation speed was 112mph (180km/h), and after
retracting the landing gear, the manifold pressure
was reduced to 43 inches (21.3 pounds of boost).
At 143mph (230km/h), the flaps were raised,
and climb settings of 2,500rpm and 161mph
(260km/h) gave a climb rate of 3,150 feet per
minute (16 meters per second).
Remarkably, this fighter didn’t require
retrimming for the various stages of flight; there
wasn’t an aileron trimmer in the cockpit, but
there was an external adjustable trim tab on
each aileron that had to be preset on the ground.
Decidedly, its most impressive features were its
light ailerons and its extremely high rate of roll.
It could do incredible aileron turns that would
have torn the wings off a 109, and the ailerons
maintained their lightness from the stall up to
400mph (645km/h) before becoming heavy.
The elevators proved to be moderately heavy
at all speeds, particularly at above 350mph
This Focke-Wulf was flown by George Schott while he served
with JG 1. He was killed on September 27, 1943, while flying this
aircraft. (Illustration by Tom Tullis)
(565km/h), when they became heavy enough
to impose a tactical restriction with regard to
pullout from low-level dives. This heaviness was
accentuated because of the nose-down pitch
that was evident at high speeds when trimmed
for low speeds. The critical speed at which this
change of trim happened was around 220mph
(355km/h), and it could easily be gauged in turns.
Below that speed, the FW 190 had a tendency to
tighten up in a turn, but above 220mph, some
backward stick pressure was required to hold the
turn. Thus, in combat, the pilot had to be aware
that if he dived on the enemy to get enough
speed to follow him into a steep turn, he had to
ensure that he didn’t lighten his initial pull force
by using the trimmer. As speed fell off in the
turn, he would have a sudden reversal of stick
force that could tighten the turn so much that
the plane would depart dramatically into a spin.
Most of the early FW 190 pilots were, however,
too well trained to lose their cool to that extent
in battle.
Rudder control proved positive and effective
at low speeds, and I found it satisfactory at high
speeds; I seldom had to use it for any normal
maneuver. It was when I assessed the three
controls together rather than in isolation that I
appreciated the FW 190’s magic as a fighter lay
in its superb control harmony. A good dogfighter
and a good gun platform called for just the
characteristics that the German fighter had in
all important aspects of stability and control. At
the normal cruise speed of 330 mph (530km/h)
at 8,000 feet (2,440m), stability was very good
directionally, but it was unstable laterally and
neutral longitudinally—all very fine for a fighter,
but it was not easy to fly on instruments; indeed,
the all-weather variants needed were fitted with
the Patin PKS 12 course-steering autopilot.
For landing, I reduced the speed to below
155mph (250km/h) and then applied 10 degrees
of flap before lowering the landing gear. After
turning on to the final approach, I applied full flap
at 150mph (240km/h) and gradually eased the
The FW 190D-9 “Dora” was flown by Oberleutnant Gergard
Michalski, Stab./JG 4 during April of 1945. Michalski was an ace
credited with 73 victories in 652 missions. (Illustration by Tom Tullis)
MEETING THE LEGENDARY
KURT TANK
T
he FW 190 was truly one of the
world’s greatest aircraft designs,
but what of the man responsible
for it? I had the good fortune to
interrogate Kurt Tank when he was captured
and taken to London at the end of the
war, and he proved to be very interesting.
I was already aware of his particularly
high standing in the upper echelons of the
German Air Ministry. In 1938, because of his
test-flying ability, they gave him the coveted
title of Flugkapitän, and in January 1943, they
designated him “Professor” because of his
technical prowess.
Since we were both test pilots and because I spoke to him only in
German, I felt we established a good rapport and he conversed freely.
He obviously had no great love of politics and was totally immersed in
military aviation; in fact, he asked me as many questions as I asked him.
I was surprised by how active he had been in flight testing his designs,
and I shared his conviction that this gave him an edge over other German
designers.
I asked him how the Focke-Wulf company would have been affected if he
had been killed on a test flight. He said his team was strong enough to ensure
the continuity of his standards, and he was particularly emphatic in his praise
of his young aerodynamicist Hans Multhopp. Multhopp had a short postwar
tenure with the scientific staff at RAE Farnborough, who were designing the
first supersonic jet-powered aircraft for the British to flight-test—months
before the Bell X-1; but this was canceled owing to massive postwar military-
budget reductions.
Tank was keen to know what I thought of his special baby, the FW 190,
and was delighted by my assessment; he heartily agreed that the Dora
9 was the pick of the bunch. He also asked many questions about the
Spitfire and Mustang—obviously interested to see whether the reports of
Luftwaffe test pilots at Rechlin on them were correct. Finally, he gave me
some insight into his future design thinking and was enthusiastic about
his ideas for a jet superiority fighter that he designated the “Ta 183 Flitzer”
(“whizzer”) and for a turboprop strike fighter. I was impressed.
Flying the Fighters 69
PORTRAIT OF A WINNER
Flown by Lt. Heinz Sach­
senberg for JV 44, this
FW 190D­9 served as an
airfield protection aircraft
for the unit’s Me 262s when
they took off and landed. The
inscription reads “Sell my
clothes. I’m going to heaven.”
(Illustration by Tom Tullis)
70 FlightJournal.com
speed as I crossed the airfield boundary at 125mph
(200km/h). The view on the approach was
decidedly poor because the attitude with power
on was flat, and unlike most of its contemporaries,
its cockpit canopy could not be opened because
of the risk of contamination from engine exhaust
fumes. Unless you made a perfect three-point
touchdown, you’d have a somewhat bouncy
arrival on the non-resilient landing gear.
Variants of the FW 190A Series
Early in 1943, the FW 190A-5 appeared. It was
essentially similar to the A-4, but its revised engine
mounting moved the engine 6 inches (15cm)
farther forward. This opened up the area behind
the engine, and allowed the cooling air to exit the
engine faster and leave through the cooling gills
on the side of the fuselage. The A-6 followed with
a redesigned wing that was lighter and could take
four 20mm cannon. In December 1943 came the
A-7 with a slightly uprated engine, and this was
followed by A-8 to A-10. Although many models
and versions were designed, most of the FW 190s
produced were A-3, A-4, and A-5 models.
There were many variants of the last six A-series
190s. Their differences were mainly in engine,
armament, and radio equipment, but there were
three unusual variants. In late 1943, a unit was
equipped with specially armored FW 190A-6s
that could ram enemy bombers; the A-8/U1 was a
two-seat conversion trainer; and the A-8/U3 was
adapted as the upper component fighter of the
Mistel piggyback fighter/bomber combination.
The Mistel’s lower component—a Ju 88 bomber—
was flown by the pilot in the FW 190 as a large
attached bomb until it was launched as a pilotless
missile over the target. This combination was
designed for the invasion of France, and it was
later used in the Soviet Union but not very suc-
cessfully. I flew the conversion trainer from
the rear seat, where the instructor had only
rudimentary controls, but the view was certainly
an improvement on that of its 109 two-seat trainer
counterpart’s.
A drawback of the A-series was that the power
of the BMW 801 engine tended to drop off at
altitudes above 23,000 feet (7,000m). In an attempt
to redress that situation, a few B- and C-series
aircraft were experimented with: the 190B had a
BMW 801D-2 engine and a pressurized cabin, and
the 190C was powered by a 1,750hp Daimler-Benz
DB 603 engine with an annular radiator, a Hirth
turbo-supercharger, and a 4-blade airscrew. This C
version had a pressurized cabin and larger vertical
tail surfaces, but it was eventually abandoned
when the turbo-supercharger was found to be too
unreliable for service use.
The Fabulous D-Series
During the spring of 1944, the D—Dora—series
was introduced; each had a 1,776hp Junkers
Jumo 213A-1 12-cylinder, liquid-cooled engine.
To compensate for the fuselage’s long nose, the
vertical tail surfaces were larger, and the aircraft
was an immediate success. The first production
model was designated “FW 190D-9,” as it was
intended to be a replacement for the A-8 on
assembly lines. It was fitted with two 20mm
cannon in the wings and two .50-caliber (13mm)
machine guns mounted above the engine—a first
for the .50-caliber guns and a big step forward in
armament output. Provision was made for an
MW-50 water/methanol injection system that
would boost the power of the Jumo 213A to
2,240hp for short periods. For D-series pilots,
another important device was its automatic
shifting at two scheduled altitudes to ensure that
the two-stage supercharger would maintain the
PHOTO COURTESY OF STAN PIET
correct engine power as altitude increased.
The Dora 9 was one of the finest piston-engine
fighters I have ever flown; it ranks among my top
five with the Spitfire XIV, the Grumman Bearcat,
the Hawker Sea Fury, and the North American
P-51D Mustang IV. It had all the handling quali-
ties of the A-series, and its performance was out-
standing. Top speed was 426mph (685km/h) at
21,500 feet (6,500m) and 357mph (574km/h) at
sea level. Initial rate of climb was 3,500 feet per
minute, and its service ceiling was 40,000 feet.
To train former Ju 87 pilots, two-seat versions of the 190 were built—designated “A-8/U1.” (Photo
With an MW-50 water/methanol injection, it courtesy of Peter M. Bowers)
reached a speed of 453mph (730km/h). Seven
hundred Doras were produced, but a shortage of
pilots and aviation fuel during this period (the
fall of 1944) meant that the Dora’s full military
potential was never utilized.

The E, F, and G Versions

The E-series reconnaissance version of the 190
was not built, but the F- and G-series—both
specialized ground-attack versions— appeared
in service sometime before the FW 190D-9.
The FW 190F was more heavily armored, while
the FW 190G had stronger landing gear, which
allowed it to carry a 3,970-pound (1,800kg) bomb
under the fuselage. In the field, the FW 190 was
easier to maintain than the 109, both in the
Russian and Mediterranean theaters, and this was A Ju 88 and an FW 190A-8/U3 were mated in an unusual piggyback combination known as “Mistel.”
especially true of the BMW 801 engine, which was The FW pilot flew the Ju 88, loaded with explosives, to a target and then released it. (Photo courtesy
outstandingly accessible. It was generally more of Peter M. Bowers)
rugged than the 109, so it withstood the rigors of
the Russian campaign better and didn’t ground
loop as the 109 tended to do.

The Ta 152H Version

The high regard in which the FW 190 and its
designer Kurt Tank were held by the German Air
Ministry was demonstrated when the authorities
allowed him to use the first two letters of his
surname to prefix all subsequent Focke-Wulf
designs. The first such design was the Ta 152H,
which was powered by a 1,880hp Junkers Jumo
213E/B engine that could be boosted to 2,250hp
In late 1942, fighter manufacturers were asked for aircraft that would reach higher altitudes—up to
by MW-50 water/methanol or GM-1 nitrous-oxide 46,000. Focke-Wulf’s answer was the FW 190C, or V18/U1; this had a DB 603A-0 engine, a ventral-
injection. It had a longer span and a higher aspect mounted, exhaust-driven turbo-supercharger, a four-paddle-blade propeller, and a pressurized
ratio wing for greater altitude capabilities than the cockpit. (Photo courtesy of Peter M. Bowers)
previous FW 190 series; it also had a pressurized
cabin and two 20mm wing cannon and an engine-
mounted 30mm cannon—a further increase in
armament-dispensation rate. This was probably
the greatest armament on any production fighter
in the war until the Me 262 jet aircraft came into
being, with four 30mm cannon. The Ta 152H’s
landing gear had an even wider track than the 190.
When I flew the Ta 152H-1, my impression was
that it had lost the aesthetic appeal of the earlier
FW 190s. On the ground, the cockpit view was
terrible because the nose was 2 feet longer than
the Dora’s owing to the armament installation. The Dora was a direct descendent of the C model 190. It was, however, powered by a Junkers Jumo
Takeoff was, however, commendably short, and 213 because that engine was more readily available than the DB 603. (Photo by Ralph Woolner,
initial climb was steep. The Ta 152H really came courtesy of Warren Thompson)

WW II Fighters 71
PORTRAIT OF A WINNER
The Champlin Museum’s
uncowled Focke-Wulf shows
the size of the Jumo 213A
engine. Note the massive
mount that was designed to
keep it securely attached to
the airframe during high-G
combat maneuvers. (Photo
courtesy of Corky Meyer)
world war
supply
VETERAN OWNED & OPERATED
Accessories for your
Military Firearms
24/7 ORDER CENTER
616-682-6039
››
US WW2 Musette
Bag, $29.99
Stick Grenade Helmet
t
Greaft
Gi s!
Idea
››
US Pilots Victory
Revolver Shoulder
Holster $32.99
WorldWarSupply.com
33,000 feet and 1,250 miles at 23,000 feet when
equipped with a 54-gallon (218-liter) drop tank.
But the Ta 152H arrived on the scene much
too late and in too small a number to play any
serious role in the air war.
Focke-Wulf Revisited
My association with Focke-Wulf did not end with
the demise of the Third Reich; in 1958, I was
appointed head of the British Naval Air Mission
to Germany, where I trained and advised the new
Marineflieger (Naval Air Arm). During my two and
a half years in that post, I was seconded to Focke-
Wulf in Bremen to test-fly the British Hawker Sea
Hawk jet fighter and the twin turboprop Fairey
Gannet antisubmarine hunter/killer, which
Focke-Wulf was building under license for the
Marineflieger. It was a strange feeling to arrive at
Bremen’s war-damaged airfield, whose buildings
into its own at above 35,000 feet. Using GM-1 looked almost as I had last seen them in 1945;
nitrous-oxide injection, it was claimed by the but in my frequent visits over the next two years,
Germans to have a service ceiling of 48,500 feet a great transformation took place, and the Focke-
and a top speed of 472mph (760km/h) at Wulf headquarters were completely rebuilt. Most
41,000 feet. Rate of roll was noticeably less, of the old archives were restored to their former
and maneuvering stick force per G was greater home, and I spent many fascinating hours reading
than that of earlier 190s; although longitudinal through these historic files to glean information
stability had improved, an autopilot was fitted, on the development of the various versions of the
as the Ta 152H had a range of 755 miles at magnificent FW 190 Butcher Bird. 
BEGINNING TO END:
WW II DOGFIGHT DRAMA
IN A SPECIAL TWO-ISSUE PACKAGE
WW II’s First Dogfights and WW II’s Last
Dogfights tell the tales of the very first and
very last times legendary icon fighters and their
pilots did battle. The names of the aircraft and
pilots are quite often widely known, but their
seminal exploits are not. What was the first of-
ficial aerial victory of WW II? What airplane/air
force/pilot scored the last victory in the most
destructive war mankind has ever known? The
Stand $38.99 answers are in
››
these special
Helmet not
included
issues, as told by
those who were
there, and are
SPECIAL accompanied by
OFFER! Flight Journal ’s
trademark
Get both for only outstanding
$12.99 photography.
regularly $9.99
each
Available as
AIRAGESTORE.COM print
or digital
item: WWDFC16
 BOOKSHELF
Your Source for the Latest & Best Aviation Books
ORDER BY PHONE: 1-800-895-4585
AUTH
B-17 NOSE B-24 NOSE O RED B
1001 AVIATION ART NAME ART NAME Y JEF
F ETH
FACTS Machat DIRECTORY DIRECTORY ELL
This book provides Forman This Forman A
an insightful and directory lists product of PILOT MAKER:
in-depth look at over 8,200 years of The Incredible
aviation history Boeing B-17s statistical T-6 Ethell and
by highlighting from the research, this Ohlrich The
many little- World War II detailed listing historical record
NEW known, yet era on which
some sort of
of over 7,800
Consolidated
of what the AT-6
accomplished has
very important
aviation facts. name B-24s in all been shrouded
Stories are organized by identification their variations long enough, this
category, such as military, commercial, was obtained, showing name and where from the WWII era, provides the aircraft’s book documents, for the first time, the
and sport aviation. Other popular available, group, squadron, and serial name and, where available, group, fascinating story of this important
topics include pilots and personalities, number. 8.5 x 11, 96 pgs, 30 photos, SC, squadron and serial number. 8.5 x 11, 192 aircraft. 7 x 10, 146 pgs, 220 photos, SC
aviation movies, TV shows, and model Item # SP403P ....... $14.95 POD Book pgs, 32 photos, SC, Item # SP434P ....... $24.95 POD Book
building. Approximately 100 excellent Item # SP003P ......... $29.95 POD Book
photographs serve as visual highlights
complementing the text. 6 x 9, 384 pgs,
100 photos. SC Item # SP244 .......$24.95 POD = Print On Demand book see PRINT ON DEMAND BOX for info.

20% OFF any book or 26% OFF 3 or more books

From this ad or our website
No Coupon Code Necessary • offer ends 11/30/17
THE DOUGLAS B-18 AND
B-23: America’s Forsaken SS820 MESSERSCHMITT BF 109 IN ACTION Stepfer ...............$19.95
Warriors Hagedorn, Sr & SS822 F-104 STARFIGHTER IN ACTION Doyle .........................$19.95
Hagedorn, Jr. This is an in- SS843 UH-1 HUEY IN ACTION Doyle ........................................$19.95
depth history of the Douglas SS471 ILYUSHIN IL-4 IN ACTION Stapfer .................................$14.95
B-18 and B-23, covering their SS481 TUPOLEV SB-2 IN ACTION Stapfer .................................$14.95
development, production, SS491 SEPECAT JAGUAR IN ACTION Ashley .............................$14.95
performance specs, combat SS501 FAIREY FIREFLY IN ACTION Harrison ............................$14.95
operations, and warpaint colors. SS504 C-5 GALAXY IN ACTION Lippincott ................................$14.95
8-1/2 x 11-1/2, 288 pgs, 300 photos. HC The In Action Series gives historical background that traces the
development of a particular aircraft. 52-80 pgs, packed with photos SS506 US NAVY FLOATPLANES IN ACTION Adcock ................$14.95
Item # AD178 .............................................. $39.95 SS507 EARLY MIG FIGHTERS IN ACTION Stapfer ...................$14.95
and tech specs; softbound
U.S. EXPERIMENTAL SS549 B-26 MARAUDER IN ACTION Stapfer .............................$19.95 SS851 DH.98 MOSQUITO IN ACTION Mackay .........................$19.95
& PROTOTYPE SS804 P-40 WARHAWK IN ACTION Dann .................................$19.95 SS849 P-38 LIGHTNING IN ACTION Doyle ................................$19.95
AIRCRAFT PROJECTS: SS837 A-1 SKYRAIDER IN ACTION Doyle ...................................$19.95
50% Fighters 1939-1945
SS687 B-52G/H STRATOFORTRESS IN ACTION Katz ..............$19.95
OFF SS749 P-47 THUNDERBOLT IN ACTION Doyle ........................$19.95 The Walk Around Series provides extensive, up close photographic
Norton This book focuses detail. 200+ photos, line drawings & color profiles; 80 pgs, softbound
on the American fighter SS814 P-51 MUSTANG IN ACTION Doyle.................................. $19.95
SS808 F6F HELLCAT IN ACTION Sullivan & Scrivner ................$19.95 SS713 A-4 SKYHAWK WALK AROUND Drendel ........................$19.95
projects of WWII that
never reached combat SS622 B-17 FLYING FORTRESS IN ACTION Doyle ...................$19.95 SS503 MESSERSCHMITT BF 109G WALK AROUND Stapfer ....$19.95
forces, or only in very limited numbers, and SS623 F4U CORSAIR IN ACTION Sullivan .................................$19.95 SS570 B-29 SUPERFORTRESS WALK AROUND Savage ..........$19.95
illuminates those little known aircraft designs and SS827 F-22 RAPTOR IN ACTION Drendel ..................................$19.95 SS732 SPITFIRE, MERLIN VARIANT WALK AROUND Mackay $19.95
secret projects that significantly advanced fighter SS664 B-24 LIBERATOR IN ACTION Doyle ................................$19.95 SS683 KC-135 STRATOTANKER WALK AROUND Katz .............$19.95
design. 10 x 10, 264 pgs, 420 photos. SC SS685 F3D SKYNIGHT IN ACTION Carey .................................$19.95 SS666 F9F COUGAR WALK AROUND Neubeck ..........................$19.95
Item # SP109 ......................................... $46.95 $23.48 SS702 S-3 VIKING IN ACTION Elward .......................................$19.95 SS694 HEINKEL HE 111 WALK AROUND Mackay .....................$19.95
SS723 C-17 GLOBEMASTER III IN ACTION Norton .................$19.95 OSS616 LANCASTER BOMBER WALK AROUND Mackay ........$18.95
AMERICAN SECRET
PUSHER FIGHTERS SS740 PBY CATALINA IN ACTION Doyle ...................................$19.95 SS495 MIG-15 FAGOT WALK AROUND Stapfer .........................$19.95
OF WORLD WAR II: SS742 U.S. ECM AIRCRAFT IN ACTION Neubeck .....................$19.95 SS540 OV-1 MOHAWK WALK AROUND Neubeck .....................$19.95
XP-54, XP-55, and XP-56 SS769 P-39 AIRACOBRA IN ACTION Doyle ...............................$19.95 SS572 MACCHI C.205 VELTRO WALK AROUND Terlizzi .........$19.95
50% Balzer This fascinating SS775 F-4 PHANTOM II IN ACTION Doyle ...............................$19.95 SS588 F-84F THUNDERSTREAK WALK AROUND Neubeck .....$19.95
OFF
tale of America’s first SS802 B-58 HUSTLER IN ACTION Doyle ...................................$19.95 SS598 F-89 SCORPION WALK AROUND Savage ........................$19.95
Pusher Fighters highlights SS816 F-105 THUNDERCHIEF IN ACTION Doyle ....................$19.95 SS612 SAAB 35 DRAKEN WALK AROUND Putnikov .................$19.95
the trials and tribulations SS818 A-26/B-26 INVADER IN ACTION Doyle ...........................$19.95 SS615 F-102A DELTA DAGGER WALK AROUND Neubeck ........$19.95
of innovative designers, dedicated builders, and
courageous test pilots, each of whom contributed
to bringing them into reality. 10 x 10, 182 pgs, 385
photos, HC Item # SP125................... $42.95 $21.48
AMERICAN AIRCRAFT
Ginter Books GB275 GRUMMAN F7F TIGERCAT Steve Ginter SC.....................$34.95
GB263P GRUMMAN GOOSE Ginter 74 pgs, 150 photos, SC ...........$21.95
DEVELOPMENT OF WWII: This series provides extensive detail; i.e., GB581 REP. XF-84H THUNDERSCREECH Ginter, SC ..................$14.95
Special Types 1939-1945 panel lines, wing folds, bomb loads, cockpit GB839 LOCKHEED F-94 STARFIRE Carey, SC...............................$39.95
Norton Focusing on military detail, and much more information via line GB582 GRUMMAN S2F/S-2 TRACKER PT.1 Thomason & Kowalski.. $46.95
development of special aircraft drawings and photographs. GB583 GRUMMAN S2F/S-2 TRACKER & WF-2/E-1B TRACER PT. 2 .....$52.95
types under the pressures GB836 DOUGLAS AD/A-1 SKYRAIDER: PT.2 Ginter 272 pgs, SC............. $55.95
of war including many GB149 BOEING B-50 Hays 240 pgs, 700 photos, SC ......................$49.95
GB833 CURTISS ASCENDER XP-55 Balzer 72 pgs, SC ..................$24.95 GB286 LOCKHEED VEGA Ginter 192 pgs, 340 photos, SC......................... $44.95
experimental aircraft and one-
off projects, this book shows GB832 MARTIN PBM MARINER Ginter 256 pgs, SC ....................$52.95 GB140 VOUGHT F8U-3 CRUSADER III Thomason 92 pg, SC................... $22.95
how U.S. aviation weapons progressed. 8.5 x 11.4, GB146 CONVAIR PB4Y-2/P4Y-2 PRIVATEER SC ..........................$49.95 GB223P CONVAIR XF2Y-1 AND YF2Y-1 SEA DART Long ........................ $21.95
272 pgs, 300 photos. HC Item # AD188......$45.95 GB295 DOUGLAS C-124 GLOBEMASTER II Berlin SC ................$29.95 GB241P GRUMMAN NAVY F-111B SWING WING Thomason SC .......... $19.95
GB147 CHANCE VOUGHT F7U-1 CUTLASS Thomason SC ............. $29.95 GB835 DOUGLAS AD/A-1 SKYRAIDER Ginter 256 pgs, SC ..........$52.95
AXIS AIRCRAFT IN LATIN GB229P MARTIN MARS XPB2M-1R & JRM FLYING BOATS, SC$21.95
AMERICA Rivas & Tincopa GB246 FLEET WHALES SKYWARRIOR PT.2 SC..........................$29.95
GB830 U.S. AIR FORCE IN VIETNAM Ginter SC ..........................$39.95 GB280 GRUMMAN F8F BEARCAT Ginter 217 pgs, SC....................$39.95
Covers the military and civil
GB205 NORTH AMERICAN T-28 TROJAN Ginter SC .................$16.95 GB208P LOCKHEED C-121 CONSTELLATION Ginter SC ............$21.95
aircraft of Latin America
following World War I. 8 x 11, GB274 MARTIN P5M MARLIN PATROL SC .................................$34.95 GB145 GRUMMAN F6F HELLCAT Meyer & Ginter 224 pgs, SC ...$49.95
400 pgs, 350 photos. HC GB271 DOUGLAS TBD DEVASTATOR Ginter SC .........................$19.95 Find these and 75 more books published by
Item # HK949 ................ $56.95 GB245P DOUGLAS A3D SKYWARRIOR PT.1 Cunningham SC ............ $26.95 Steve Ginter on our website!

Flight Journal Bookshelf | www.flightjournalstore.com

ZERO
Myth, Mystery, and Truth
BY CORKY MEYER

74 FlightJournal.com
A TEST PILOT COMPARES THE
A6M5 ZERO TO U.S. FIGHTERS
Anyone who grew up in the 1920s and ’30s learned
quickly that “Made in Japan” meant cheap price and poor
quality. Almost everything bought in the five-and-dime
stores had that tag. It seemed impossible to purchase
anything imported from Japan that would not wear out or
break after a short, useful life.

For the first six months of WW II in the Pacific, the Zero’s range and maneuverability let it dominate
the theater. Its success, however, blinded Japanese leadership to the need for follow-on designs to
counter the second-generation fighters that were bound to be fielded by the Allies. (Photo by John
Dibbs/planepicture.com)

WW II Fighters 75
ZERO—MYTH, MYSTERY, AND TRUTH
An A6M5 with cannon and
auxiliary fuel tank. (Photo
courtesy of Peter M. Bowers
collection)
MITSUBISHI A6M5 REISEN
(ZERO-SEN) MODEL 52, “ZEKE 52”
Wingspan: 36 ft. 1 in.
Length: 29 ft. 11 in.
Maximum speed: 343mph at 19,685 ft.
Powerplant: Sakae 21, 14-cylinder, 1,130hp rated
at takeoff
Armament: Two 7.7mm machine guns; two 20mm
cannon
Weight (loaded): 6,025 lb.
Crew: 1
Performance range: 975 miles
That fact and the secrecy of the Japanese in
the years before WW II regarding their military
buildup anesthetized all of us regarding their
real might. The average American believed
that in battle, Japanese military forces would
crumble as fast as their products had. We were
obviously wrong. They overran country after
country and their air forces were superior to
anything that could be put against them. Amer-
icans learned to respect the words “Jap Zero”
as defining the epitome of aerial superiority.
Just one day after December 7, 1941, “Made in
Japan” had an entirely different meaning.
When I arrived at Grumman on November 11,
1942, and started flying the Wildcat fighter, I was
immersed in the life-and-death struggle that the
Wildcat, the only U.S. Navy fighter, was having
with the Zero. All we heard from the commu-
niqués was that we couldn’t build and deliver
the Wildcat fast enough. The story was still very
fresh in everyone’s mind how “Grummanites”
had volunteered to work around the clock for
seven days after the Battle of Midway to deliver a
much-needed 39 additional Wildcats to the fleet
to replace some of the aircraft lost during that
pivotal battle. The reason that Grumman could
not deliver more at that time was that we had
run out of engines. So I felt somewhat ambiva-
lent when I had the chance to fly the vaunted
Zero in October of 1944 at the Joint Services
76 FlightJournal.com
Fighter Conference at the Patuxent Naval Air
Test Center.
Many historians have insisted that the Zero
was either a copy of the Vought 143 (which the
Japanese had purchased) or the Hughes Racer.
They did look similar, but the Zero used a much
different design philosophy to get its weight
lower than any other fighter of the time. Japa-
nese designers reduced the loads on the struc-
ture by designing to very restrictive dive speeds
and by dispensing with armor protection and
self-sealing tanks. They gained further weight
savings by moving the wing-fold point nearly
out to the wingtips. But that greatly limited the
number of aircraft that could be placed on a
carrier owing to the long folded wingspan.
Out of the Hangar
My first impression of the Zero was that it
looked every bit the fighter. It had very trim
lines. Except for the canopy bulge, the engine
was the biggest volume in the design, and the
slim fuselage behind it made it seem smaller
than it was. It was, to my eyes, the best-looking
fighter at the ’44 Fighter Conference. It cer-
tainly had a magnetic drawing power to fighter
pilots because of its reputation for unparalleled
agility in dogfights.
During my walk-around, I noticed that there
were 1-inch bamboo rubbing devices attached
to the wheel fairings that the tires picked
up, to close the wheel-well doors, as the gear
retracted. The Japanese were certainly using all
the endemic materials at hand. Another item I
noticed was that the Nakajima Sakae 21 engine
had an exact replica of the Pratt & Whitney
logo complete with the eagle, with “Nakajima”
in Japanese script but with the words “Depend-
ability and Reliability” in English. I did feel
more at home with the Zero after seeing that
mark of excellence.
The Zero was the only aircraft that had a
pilot to assist in checkout. Because of the Zero’s
rarity, Cmdr. Andrews, the Navy project pilot,
would not let a pilot start the engine until he
was satisfied with his competence.
We started our cockpit checkout in the cool
hangar. As we were talking, the airplane was
dragged out into the hot sun. I had previously
noted that the fabric was drooped between
the ribs of the ailerons but had forgotten to
ask Cmdr. Andrews about it. Soon there were a
lot of audible, metallic scraping noises. Cmdr.
Andrews then suggested that the fabric would
become taut and the metallic working would
stop after the airplane had become acclimated
to the higher temperature outside the hangar.
That is the only time I have ever “heard” an
engineering weight savings.
This Type 52a Zero did not have self-sealing
fuel tanks and pilot armor protection. That
was to cost them 145 pounds in the Type 52c,
which was just being delivered to Japanese
squadrons when the Fighter Conference was
going on. That weight penalty, plus others to
come—without an increase in horsepower—
started an inevitable decline in the Zero’s com-
bat agility.
Its 8G maneuvering limit was the same as our
fighters, but the maximum diving speed of our
Zero 52a was only 355 knots. The reduced air-
frame material sizes resulting from lower dive-
speed loads reduced the gross weight by several
hundred pounds. That lower gross weight
accounted for much of the Zero’s outstanding
dogfight-maneuvering performance. In com-
parison, the Wildcat had a 400-knot dive-speed
limit. The F6F-3 Hellcat had a 420-knot speed,
which was subsequently raised to 455 knots in
the F6F-5.
Workmanship on the Zero was superb and
comparable to American quality. This was
most amazing to us in light of the prewar
Japanese products with which we all had come
in contact.
An Interesting Cockpit for
a Six-Foot-Three Pilot
During the cockpit checkout, I noted that all
the engine instruments and several of the flight
instruments were calibrated in metrics, like
kilograms/square centimeters (oil pressure) and
meters (altimeter). I asked Cmdr. Andrews to
make pencil marks where the respective needles
were supposed to be in flight so that I would not
have to remember so many unfamiliar readings.
To my surprise, I found that the cockpit was
large enough to make my six-foot-three body
feel comfortable from the seat bottom to the
canopy. My feet, however, seemed tucked under
me, even with the rudder pedals full forward.
This was uncomfortable but certainly not unfly-
able. Even though visibility on the ground was
only fair over the nose, the seat could be raised
so that my eyes were several inches above the
top of the open canopy, for superb taxi vis-
ibility. Fighter-required visibility in the air was
excellent, especially to the rear.
Another non-American feature that must
have given the Japanese pilots mixed emotions
was the protrusion of the two 7.7mm type 97
(.30-caliber) gun butts 6 inches into the cock-
pit on either side of the instrument panel. I’m
sure these gave a macho feeling to the pilots
when firing with the racket, the nearness of
the action, and the ability to clear gun jams.
With all the cordite fumes, I do hope that Japa-
nese pilots had good, 100-percent-flow oxygen
masks. The gun butts must have been most dis-
concerting and disfiguring in a crash. The rest
of the cockpit interior was reasonably well laid
out and easily adaptable. However, I had just
flown in the messy Seafire cockpit, so any other
cockpit looked great.
Engine operation throughout the flight was
similar to American engines, as one might
expect with the “engine label” attached. A clipped-wing version of an
A6M Zeke 32. (Photo courtesy
of Peter M. Bowers collection)
WW II Fighters 77
ZERO—MYTH, MYSTERY, AND TRUTH

A ZERO OLD WIVES’ TALE

Many aviation historians have
written that when the first Japa-
nese Zero was captured on June
3, 1942, the secrets learned
from its comparative flights with
American fighters dictated the
design of the Grumman Hellcat.
Historical facts tell a vastly dif-
ferent story.
During the first year of
WW II, when the Japanese Zero
was outclassing Navy Grum-
man F4F Wildcats and Army Air
Corps P-40s, P-38s, and P-39s
by its agility and numbers, our
armed forces wanted a Zero in
the worst way to find out its
performance and maneuverabil-
ity secrets.
Although Petty Officer Koga
was killed when his A6M2 Zero
This Zero was captured on Saipan in June of 1944, and it was the one tested by Corky Meyer during the Joint Fighter Confer-
overturned during his emer-
ence at the Naval Test Center, Patuxent, Maryland, October 22, 1944. It still flies—with its original Sakae 31 engine—out in
gency, wheels-down landing on Chino, California, at the Planes of Fame Museum. (Photo courtesy of Corky Meyer collection)
Alaska tundra, it took the Navy
five weeks to salvage it and another seven weeks to get it to NAS the North American P-51 delivery record by delivering 604 Hell-
North Island San Diego, California, for major repairs and to locate cats in March of 1944.
a replacement propeller. The comparative test flights in which Because of the almost impossible mass-production buildup
the “secrets” were learned by U.S. Navy and Army Air Corps pilots rate required by the Navy contract, small changes could be
were not completed until December of 1942. block-incorporated only every three to six months. Major model
The Hellcat configuration was firmly fixed on January 7, 1942, changes required 18 to 24 months to inject into the rapidly mov-
by a Navy contract for 1,264 aircraft to be constructed ASAP! ing production line. Only minor changes were made in the F6F-3
The F6F-3 Hellcat made its first flight on June 23, 1942—the Hellcat until the introduction of the F6F-5 model in July 1944. (The
same month that Koga was killed. It was in full mass production F6F-4 was only one experimental airplane with an engine that was
by time the American flight tests of the Zero were completed. unsuitable for production.)
Twelve Hellcats were delivered to the Navy by the end of 1942; The Zero secrets arrived about one-and-a-half years too late for
2,545 Hellcats were delivered in 1943. Grumman broke the record the Hellcat but were certainly used in the super-agile F8F-l Bearcat,
for the most aircraft produced in one month when they outdid whose design was just being started in December of 1942.

ONE ON ONE—ZERO VS. U.S. FIGHTERS

In November of 1942, Koga’s Zero had been ex-
tensively repaired. A Hamilton Standard propeller
exactly like the Zero’s was fitted because the
Zero prop was a copy of a Hamilton Standard.
Koga’s Zero 21 had the Sakae 12 engine of 940hp.
Then, flight-comparison tests were flown
between the Zero and the current American
fighters. The airplanes in this evaluation all had
at least 270hp greater than Koga’s. The Zero 52a
that I flew had a 1,130hp Sakae 21 engine.
To cancel the temperature or turbulence dif- P-38F vs. Zero 21
ferences that might happen if tests were done Both aircraft took off together. The Zero was at 300 feet when the P-38F
separately, flight tests were flown in formation became airborne. The Zero reached 5,000 feet about six seconds ahead of the
(up to the point where the planes could keep up P-38F. In level flight, acceleration starting at 200mph, the Lightning acceler-
with one another). All of the Army Air Corps air- ated away from the Zero quite rapidly. Climbing from 5,000 feet to 10,000 feet,
craft were their latest versions. The Navy did not the Zero was about four seconds ahead of the Lightning. Comparable accelera-
compare the Zero to the Hellcat because there tions at 10,000 feet gave the same results as at 5,000 feet. Climbing from
were only three Hellcats flying in November 1942. 15,000 to 20,000 feet, the P-38F started gaining on the Zero at 18,200 feet. At
The following is quoted from the Intelligence 20,000 feet and above, the P-38F was superior to the Zero in all maneuvers
Summary Report; statements in parenthesis are except slow-speed turns. One area where the P-38F was superior to the Zero
the author’s comments. was high-speed reversal of turns. Above 25,000 feet the P-38F was superior to
the Zero in all conditions except slow-speed turns.

78 FlightJournal.com

Airacobra P-39D-1 vs. Zero 21
In a formation takeoff climbing to 5,000 feet, the Zero was at
4,000 feet when the Airacobra reached 5,000 feet. In level flight
starting at 230mph at 5,000 feet, the Airacobra had a marked
acceleration away from the Zero. Climbing from 5,000 to
10,000 feet, the Airacobra reached 10,000 six seconds ahead
of the Zero. Starting from 220mph level at 10,000, the Airaco-
bra again accelerated markedly away from the Zero. Climbing
from 10,000 feet to 15,000, the Zero gained an advantage from
12,500 feet and began to pull away from the Airacobra. Climbing
from 15,000 feet to 20,000 feet, the Zero took immediate advan-
tage and walked away from the Airacobra. The climb was discon-
tinued as the Airacobra was running low on fuel. On a straight
climb from takeoff to 25,000 feet, the Airacobra maintained the
advantage until 14,800 feet and from then on, the Zero pulled
ahead reaching 25,000 feet five minutes ahead of the Aircobra.
P-51A Mustang vs. Zero 21
During the takeoff, the Zero reached its climbing speed six sec-
onds before the Mustang, and reached 5,000 feet six seconds
ahead of the P-51A. At 5,000 feet in level flight at 250mph, the
Mustang accelerated sharply away from the Zero. Climbing
from 5,000 to 10,000 and to 15,000 feet, the Zero accelerated
away from the Mustang in rate of climb. In level acceleration at
10,000, the Mustang accelerated sharply away from the Zero,
but at 15,000, the Mustang’s advantage became slightly slower
than at 5,000 or 10,000 feet. At all altitudes tested, the P-51A
could dive away from the Zero at any time. The tests were con-
cluded at 15,000 feet because the Mustang’s engine failed to
operate properly above that altitude.
P-40F Warhawk vs. Zero 21
The tests were not completed with the Warhawk because the
P-40F’s Packard Merlin engine could not obtain maximum
engine operation. (An observation: The Zero kept performing for
every flight, while both the Allison and Packard engines couldn’t
keep up even with the optimum maintenance of flight testing.
Although it was in production by late 1941, no 2,000hp P-47 par-
ticipated in these evaluations.)
F4F Wildcat vs. Zero 21
The Zero was superior at all altitudes above 1,000 feet in speed,
climb, service ceiling and range. Sea-level speeds were the same
for both aircraft. In a dive, both airplanes were the same except
that the Zero’s engine cut out during pushovers. There was no
comparison between the turning circles of the two aircraft due
to the relative wing loadings and the resultant low stalling speed
of the Zero. In view of the foregoing, the F4F in combat with the
Zero must be dependent on mutual support, internal protection
and pullouts or turns at high speeds where the minimum radius is
limited by structural or physiological effects of acceleration (as-
suming that the allowable acceleration of the F4F is greater than
the Zero’s). However, advantage should be taken where possible
of the F4F’s superiority in pushovers and rolls at high speeds, or
any combination of the two. (This may sound bad, but the 1,200hp
Wildcat had a kill-to-loss ratio in the Pacific war of 9 to 1. The
2,000hp Corsair had only an 11 to 1 kill-to-loss ratio.)
F4U-1 Corsair vs. Zero 21
The Zero was far inferior to the Corsair in level speeds and diving
speeds at all altitudes. It fell short in climbs starting at sea level,
and above 20,000 feet, the Zero could not stay with the Corsair in
high-speed climbs. The superiority of the F4U-1 was very evident
and would persist even when carrying heavier loads. In combat
with the Zero, the
Corsair could take full
advantage of its speed
along with its ability
to push over and roll
at high speeds if sur-
prised. Due to its much
higher wing loading,
the F4U-1 had to avoid
any attempt to turn
with the Zero, except at
high speeds, and could expect the latter to outclimb the Corsair
at moderate altitudes and low speeds. In this case, the Corsair
should be climbed at high speeds and on a heading which would
open the distance and prevent the Zero from reaching a favorable
position to attack. After reaching 19,000 or 20,000 feet, the Cor-
sair had superior performance in climb and could choose its own
position for attack.
Summary: Don’t fight with the Zero at low speeds. Keep the
speed up on the attack. Push over, dive and roll away because
the Zero can’t follow such maneuvers. The Zero 21 only had a
355 knot dive speed and all the other U.S. aircraft had dive-
speed limits of over 400 knots.
Koga’s Zero Epilogue
Several museums have reported that they possess Koga’s
original airplane, but sad to say, the record shows that an SB2C
Helldiver taxied into this Zero 21 in the summer of 1944 and
chopped it to pieces from tail to cockpit. It was a total loss.
The Zero that was used for flight evaluations during the 1944
Fighter Conference, however, is not only on display but also still
flying at the Planes of Fame Museum in Chino, California.
WW II Fighters 79
ZERO—MYTH, MYSTERY, AND TRUTH
A line of Zeros prepares for
takeoff. (Photo courtesy of A Great Dogfighter
Peter M. Bowers collection) Once the Zero started rolling on takeoff, perfor-
mance was impressive. It was considerably
above its minimum takeoff speed when it left
the ground after a 700-foot roll, and because its
climb speed was 20 knots below the Hellcat, the
angle of climb was stupendous. The only prob-
lem seemed to be that it took way too long to get
to 10,000 feet altitude, until I remembered that
the altimeter indicated meters not feet. At
3,500 meters indicated altitude, I realized I was
already well above 10,000 feet!
As a test pilot, my training had always dictated
that stall characteristics must be checked first to
see just how much talent I would need to land
safely and smoothly. In all configurations, the
stalls were gentle, with little or no wing drop-
ping, and accelerated stalls in either the clean or
landing condition were as good as or better than
in the Hellcat. The most interesting aspect of
stalls was the airspeed. It was 20 knots less than
the heavier wing-loaded American airplanes—a
great tribute to the weight-saving program of
the Zero’s designers. It was apparent that inex-
perienced Japanese pilots would feel quite com-
THE AIRPLANE WAS SHOWING ITSELF TO BE A
“LEAD SLED” MUCH FASTER THAN I THOUGHT IT
SHOULD. AT 240 KNOTS INDICATED AIRSPEED,
THE STICK SEEMED TO BE “IN CEMENT” BOTH
FOR ROLLING AND PULLING GS.
fortable in the Zero. Our pilots flying P-40s, by
contrast, had to cope with miserable stall charac-
teristics that killed all too many young pilots in
training and combat.
Prior to WW II, combat airplanes were rated on
their turning performance—the ability to get on
the other pilot’s tail for the kill. Without another
airplane to compete against, testing this quality is
difficult to quantify. I had learned to use the loop
maneuver to check this ability when evaluating
a fighter without an adversary. Actual combat is
not as well simulated but it comes close. I started
the first loop in the Zero at 150 knots from level
flight. I completed it 1,800 feet higher than I
started! It was my first loop, and I was not pull-
ing it in anywhere as tightly as I could have since
80 FlightJournal.com
I did not use its very low wing loading and stall
speed properly, but it still was impressive.
My next loop was started at 120 knots, and
by tightening the loop to stall-warning buffet-
ing on the last half, I pulled out 1,200 feet above
my starting altitude! For comparison, a Wildcat
needed a minimum start speed of 160 knots,
and it would end the loop several hundred feet
below the starting altitude. It was easy to see
why the Zero had gained such a fabulous reputa-
tion when it sucked the enemy airplanes into
circling, dogfight combat. If the Zero was behind
his enemy, he could pull inside of him and get a
good deflection shot. If he was being tailed, he
could pull it in tighter than the enemy and stall
him out before he could get a shot. If the Zero
pilot was out of ammunition, he could climb
away in turning flight in complete safety. Our
pilots learned the hard way not to fight the Zero
on its own terms. (The Grumman Bearcat was the
only airplane that could have bested the Zero at
any speed, but it was just two weeks too late for
combat.)
Dogfighter on a Short Leash:
Inferior Limit-Dive Capabilities
Because the Zero’s high-speed level performance
was well known, I did not spend time and fuel
checking it. I next looked into the flight char-
acteristics of the higher dive-speed regimes.
The weaknesses of the design were to stand out
starkly. At 200 knots indicated, the rolling stick
forces were building up much faster than one
would have expected for an airplane with a limit
speed of only 355 knots. The elevator maneu-
vering stick forces became quite heavy, and this
rapidly eroded the Zero’s turning superiority. The
airplane was showing itself to be a “lead sled”
much faster than I thought it should. At 240
knots indicated airspeed, the stick seemed to be
“in cement” both for rolling and pulling Gs. The
rudder forces, however, were still very light and
grossly out of balance with the other controls. I
still cannot understand the rationale for the very
low rudder forces when the ailerons and espe-
cially the elevator were practically useless. It was
easy to see that the 355-knot dive-speed limit was
not much use for evasion when the pilot could
not effectively use the ailerons or elevator. A lot
of Zeros were shot down soon after American

pilots learned that the Zero could not be maneu-
vered when diving at over 250 knots.
In comparison, both the Wildcat and the Hell-
cat had much more manageable stick forces up to
their higher dive-speed limits. The Type 52c Zero
had heavier wing skins and structure to permit
a dive speed of 400 knots. Unless the control
forces had also been decreased by a large fac-
tor, it is difficult to see how this increase in dive
speed would have assisted Zero pilots even during
kamikaze attacks.
Test pilots and engineers had worked hard to
make the Zero’s flight-handling characteristics
user-friendly in the dogfighting regime. I imme-
diately felt as though I had flown the Zero many
times before. The balance of the controls, the
cockpit visibility, the smoothness of the engine,
the location of all the instruments, and the
gentle stall characteristics made this one of the
few fighter airplanes I had evaluated that dem-
onstrated almost all of the required qualities for
successfully putting a low-time pilot into combat
with the needed confidence to survive.
The Leash Shortens Again:
Insufficient Wing Fold
Another less obvious—but major—Zero defi-
ciency was that its wing-fold span decreased its
total span by only 6 feet. This allowed only one
Zero at a time to be on the elevator from the
hangar deck to the flight deck for launch. The
number of Zeros on a carrier were accordingly
limited by its 36-foot folded wingspan both on
the hangar and launch decks. Having the wing
fold at the tip saved a lot of weight over having
it fold at the wing root, but it was to prove too
great a sacrifice for weight savings/performance
increase versus numbers of aircraft available per
carrier during the critical battles of the Coral Sea
and Midway.
Both the Hellcat and the Wildcat had folding
wings that decreased their spans to 17 feet—
enough to allow five aircraft with wings folded
to occupy the same area as two aircraft without
wing-folding capability! This permitted a 150 per-
cent increase in the numbers of aircraft on the
hangar or flight decks for the same-size carrier
and made deck elevators much more efficient by
being able to handle two aircraft at a time. The
folding wings also permitted U.S. carriers to get
more aircraft airborne in less time than the Japa- THE ARROGANT
nese because more aircraft could be on the launch
deck at one time. The value of greater numbers of
JAPANESE
available aircraft from the tight Grumman wing- ADMIRALS AND
fold system paid off in spades in all the air battles GENERALS HAD
of WW II despite the 170-pound weight penalty. CONVINCED
The Leash Shortens Yet Again: THEMSELVES
Sam Stumbles THAT THEY DID
Zeros stayed in production for the entire war, NOT NEED AN
even when they were outclassed well before the
war ended. From an American viewpoint, this is
IMPROVEMENT
difficult to understand. We were continuously TO THE ZERO,
developing airplanes without the distraction of EVEN THOUGH
a war going on around us. We also did not share THE HAND-
the fixed conviction of our enemies that the war
would be a short one. Also, we had a much larger
WRITING WAS
manpower and material base for research and ON THE WALL,
development. Having been in the aircraft- BIG TIME!
manufacturing business during WW II, Korea,
and Vietnam, it was stunning to me that the
Japanese and Germans produced as many aircraft
developments and had such amazing rates of
production in the last years of WW II despite the
devastating 1,000-plane Allied bomber raids.
In early 1942, Mitsubishi engineers proposed
a great follow-on for the Zero. It was an airplane
with the general planform of the Zero but sized
up to fit the new 2,200hp Homare 43 engine. It
was fitted with all the armor plate, etc., that the
war had eventually convinced them to be neces-
sary. This airplane was known as the Mitsubishi
A7M2 Reppu—code-named “Sam” by the U.S.
forces. Japanese Navy brass immediately dictated
that it be redesigned to use a smaller engine.
They then reversed their decision in late 1943
with the full-speed go-ahead it should have been
given when it was first presented. Because of
this strange delay in the development program,
only a few Homare 43-powered Sams appeared
by the war’s end. Had the Sam been pushed as it
should have been, the Hellcat, Corsair, P-51, and
P-47 would have met their match long before the
end of the war. Because the Sam was hopelessly
delayed, the only other option was to continue
the overworked Zero production line until the
end of the war. A total of 10,499 Zeros of all mod-
els were constructed—more than 80 percent of
all the fighters available to the Japanese Air Force
during the entire war.
The Zero was a fabulous fighter from 1938 to
1942, when dogfighting prevailed in combat.
When its weaknesses were finally understood
by Allied fighter pilots, they should have been
most grateful that the arrogant Japanese admi-
rals and generals had convinced themselves that
they did not need an improvement to the Zero,
even though the handwriting was on the wall,
big time! The kamikaze mission was the Zero’s
last effort, and it regained its usefulness as a
weapon—fortunately, for only a short time. J
WW II Fighters 81
 TAILVIEW
In a Lifetime of Flight
BY BUDD DAVISSON
In reading back through the articles included in this issue,
what I came away with was a profound sadness of, first, what
we had to leave out due to space and, second, what the pass-
ing of icon pilots means to history—and how those we had in
the 1940s and ’50s will never be duplicated.
It’s hard for any of us to understand what that generation
of pilots experienced, what their brains had secreted away
in forgotten corners, and how much three-dimensional
knowledge they gained without
even knowing it.
I’m put in mind of an old air-
show performer who mentored me
during the early part of my career.
He had done a 20-year stint in the
Air Force (formerly the Army Air
Corps). When a newly commis-
sioned lieutenant, he was assigned
the Boeing P-12. Yes, it was aging
at the time, but it was still in inven-
tory. His last plane was the Boeing
B-47 Stratojet. Think of what passed
through his hands and his mind dur-
ing that brief 20 years! From a biplane
fighter with two machine guns and
tiny bombs to a high-flying swept-
wing bomber carrying nukes. All
pilots of the period experienced the
same amount of monumental growth
and change.
Back in the day, a Navy fighter pilot,
for instance, would have flown nearly
a dozen airplanes during his career.
Maybe he started in Wildcats and pro-
gressed through Hellcats or Corsairs into the morass
of postwar jet designs: Banshees, Demons, and finally Furies,
Crusaders, and beyond. Air Force pilots of the time, like Robin
Olds, trained on Stearmans and Texans, went into combat in
P-38s, enjoyed success in Mustangs, and eventually finished
their combat career in Phantoms.
Today, it’s common for a graduate of Pensacola to saddle
up a Hornet on his first day in the squadron and retire two
decades later still flying the Hornet—if he’s lucky. Ditto for
F-16/F-15 pilots. The number of new designs, which during
the ’40s and ’50s had seemed to pop out of the designer’s
heads into production on almost a monthly basis, had slowed
to a crawl. Now the gestation period of new designs, like the
F-35, are measured in decades, not years, and threaten to span
the entire 20-year career of new pilots.
And then there are guys like Corky Meyer and Eric Brown,
the unabashed highlights of this issue. We will never see their
like again. Never. It’s unknown exactly how many fighters
Corky flew during his career, but on the Grumman products
alone, it went from the Wildcat to some of its mid-’50s jets.
Along the way, he flew just about every fighter built by every
U.S. manufacturer and some that were foreign. Today, it’s
unlikely a test pilot of any kind for any company is going to
be invited to try on a competitor’s bird. It’s also unlikely that
82 FlightJournal.com
Above: A young Corky Meyer about to mount
up his favorite steed: the F6F Hellcat. (Photo
courtesy of Corky Meyer) Left: Eric Brown, test
pilot extraordinaire, flew more different types
of planes than any other pilot. (Photo courtesy
of Wikimedia Commons)
there will be many new airplane
types out there for them to sample.
And how much raw knowledge
did Eric Brown take with him
when he died—487 types,
2,500 carrier traps, all kinds of air-
craft from every nation, props to
jets? It is sometimes forgotten that
he was one of the only people
outside of the Luftwaffe to actu-
ally make a powered flight in the
notoriously dangerous Me 163 Komet. Who had
those kinds of experiences stored in his memory cells? Who
could talk with authority on so many aspects of aircraft design
from experience?
One of the tragedies of life is that the human brain soaks
up an incredible amount from a lifetime of experience. Then
comes a time where those electronic impulses that comprise
so much knowledge suddenly evaporate. A heart stops beat-
ing, the blood stops flowing, and the electrons suddenly cease
to exist. Everything in that person’s life and understanding
simply disappear.
Einstein made his mark on the world by postulating that
there’s an inviolate balance between energy and mass. One
always yields to the other in a precise formulaic exchange. If
so, what happens to the images, the thoughts, and the memo-
ries that crowded the minds of the Corky Meyers and Eric
Browns of the world? Somehow, the world is being cheated
when those who have contributed so much and experienced
so deeply leave us. I guess it falls to the journalists to capture
their words and thoughts as best we can so that they live past
a normal life span.
It may be that this issue has been our attempt to remind
the world of what we’ve lost—and are continuing to lose.
Maybe we’ll be more aware and will capture the past on paper
before any more is lost. I hope. J
 AIRAGESTORE.COM PAY PAL D ORDER ONLINE at AirAgeStore.com
ACCEPTE ORDER BY PHONE (888) 235-2021
OUTSIDE THE U.S. +(203) 961-7690

Magazines | Memberships | Books | DVDs | Special Issues | Digital Editions | Plans | Merchandise

Special issue collection: Get ’em while they last!

MAIL ORDERS—PLEASE INCLUDE
POSTAGE AND HANDLING CHARGES
WITH ALL ORDERS: U.S. — $3.99 first item,
$1.50 each additional item, per shipping
address. Canada — $9.99 first item, $2.99
each additional item, per shipping address.
International — $14 first item, $4.50 each
additional item, per shipping address.
Residents of CT, add 6% state sales tax.
NEW!
Residents of KY, add 6% sales tax. Additional
county taxes will also apply. Canada, add
GST. All checks and money orders must be
in U.S. dollars drawn on a U.S. bank.
Download order form online
WW II’s First Dogfights WW II’s Last Dogfights German Airpower
Item# WWDF16PD | $9.99 Item# WWDF15PD | $9.99 Item# GRA15PD | $7.99

P-47 Corsair P-38 Spitfire

Item# P4714 | $7.99 Item# F4UC14PD | $7.99 Item# P3813PD | $7.99 Item# SPIT13PD | $7.99

Axis Fighters Mustang WW II Fighters WW II Aces

Item# AXISPD | $7.99 Item# MUSTPD | $7.99 Item# WW2F2PD | $7.99 Item# ACESPD | $7.99

Pacific Fighters P-51 Mustang WW II Bombers German Fighters

Item# PFCOLPD | $7.99 Item# P51M | $7.99 Item# WW2B | $7.99 Item# GRF11 | $7.99

MORE ONLINE! MOST PRODUCTS AVAILABLE AS A DIGITAL DOWNLOAD

SPECIALEDITION18