Table Of ContentDog fights and Down time
Adventures of an Ace Fighter Pilot: Italy WWII
By David Wilhelm
Appreciation
Without the help of these people, I doubt I would have had the determination to
compile all these sources of information to write this book. I used letters from my parents,
my letters to them, my almost daily diary recording of the events, and the official
government documents. The writings were taken from these documents to show their
authenticity not my current recollections.
I received my chief Assistance from Steve Alldredge, a fine author and reporter, who
kept my determination to finish “Dog Fight” with focus, accuracy and my expressing my
thoughts and feelings as a member of the United States Air Force. He edited, corrected,
erased, added, omitted and improvised much of my writings all in good cheer and
friendship. Because of his contribution and our good relationship, he made the effort of
writing this book a joy.
EJ Thornton, the publisher, proposed the general direction of the book and to
incorporate my personal reflections and reactions of events for those four years in service.
She was accommodating in accomplishing the suitable time for the publication.
Jean Russell, my daughter, complied, investigated, incorporated pictures that were
located from many albums that led to more clarity and interest in the written word. I am
most appreciative for her kind help.
David Wilhelm, who is one of my two sons, was constantly on the “ready” for my
many distressed calls as I floundered with my computers.
Jean Emery Wilhelm, my wife, whose patience and durability for my inconsistent
absence from our home. She instilled confidence that I did really have something to say.
Her patience and confidence and little tips along the way bolstered my continuance of this
book. I am most grateful.
Introduction
The Author, David Wilhelm
Like many men, the most dramatic event in my young life took place when the world
erupted into World War II. Americans were in a frenzy to enlist and fight, and I was too.
I had made no analysis of the wisdom of the war or what was in store for me. But
after President Roosevelt declared war in his “Day of Infamy” speech (December 8,
1941), I wanted to join the fighting forces. In particular, I wanted to join the Army Air
Corps to be a fighter pilot.
I served in our military from June 18, 1942 to July 26, 1945. As a fighter pilot I had
two combat tours and 148 missions in Europe and Northern Africa flying P-40s, Spitfires,
and P-51 Mustangs. A list of my awards and commendations is at the back of the book.
While I’m extremely proud of my service and these distinctions, I have always felt that I
was no different than any of the fellow pilots who I was honored to serve with overseas.
During my time in the Air Corps, both in training and as a fighter pilot, I wrote near-
daily letters to my parents, and I am extremely fortunate that they saved them.
My dad had the letters bound into two books. The first book was called “The
Chrysalis” because it contained my letters during my formative months in training when
my dad described me like a butterfly still being developed. The second volume contained
letters during my time in Africa and Italy, and it was simply titled “Overseas.”
I have also used two logbooks as resources. During my time in combat in Italy and
the Middle East, I wrote entries in those logbooks after each Spitfire and Mustang
mission, and amazingly they have survived all these years.
Using these documents of my personal history as source materials, here’s a little of
what it was like to be a 23-year-old lad expressing his excitement, fear, fatigue, boredom,
worries, and dreams during training to be a fighter pilot and then in combat overseas
during World War II…
David Wilhelm
Denver, Colorado
November — 2015
Chapter 1
Training, Ft. Sill:
No place for Me
The telegram
Wilhelm’s first letter home
Field Artillery Training Induction Center
Ft. Sill, Oklahoma
June 24, 1942
Dear Mother and Father,
It is rather difficult to write interesting news for all day at school offers little variety
and little news.
We are, however, finishing our course this Saturday, which none of us regret a bit. The
work is essential for Field Artillery but still it is pretty dull not having any practical
application for one who is anticipating transfer to the Air Corps.
This week, when we finished, we reverted to our old batteries in the replacement
center until we can get a new assignment which should come within a week or two.
Our jobs at the batteries are pretty involved with duty assignments, physical training,
or training officers and enlisted men.
As for our future jobs, it is almost certain that we will be sent to new divisions all
about the country. Of the 39 members of our class, about 17 will be sent to more schools
— communications, materials, etc. — at (Ft.) Sill. Four were called out the other day for
overseas duty.
As for my position, I shall undoubtedly be assigned as if I had never applied for the
Air Corps for as yet I have received (no) word from Washington. Unless the Air Corps
proceedings speed up, I’m undoubtedly scheduled to be sent to some field artillery
division.
Since my application for the Air Corps has not been accepted to my knowledge, my
orders will read from Field Artillery headquarters and I shall continue until my transfer is
effected. I only hope that I don’t get sent to Australia or some place before Washington
finally gets around to answering my request for a transfer.
We shall know the time and place of our transfer from the F.A.R.T.C. this Thursday, so
when I call this week I’ll give you the dope.
I have been going down to the Municipal Airport here at Lawton and taking flying
lessons. I have had three to date and (I) am coming along fine …
Love,
David
Family
I was born in Chicago, Illinois, and lived there and Lake Forest till after the war when
I moved to Denver, Colorado.
Father was an earnest and devoted first vice-president of the Cudahy Packing Co.
who ran the company with his brother-in-law and president, Edward Cudahy. Cudahy
Packing was a successful national meatpacking company from 1890 till 1960 when it was
liquidated and sold.
My father enjoyed intellectual books on topics like history, philosophy and general
biographies, played weekend golf, and enjoyed bird shooting when time allowed. He was
close to all his children and spent his free time doing activities with us.
My mother was an energetic and warm person who played golf and tennis and loved
to play bridge with her husband and lady friends.
My brother Edward injured himself as a child and contracted osteomyelitis (then an
infectious incurable disease that plagued him throughout his life.) Both my father and
mother cared for Edward with loving attention and care (antibiotics like penicillin had not
yet been discovered) but he committed suicide when he was 24.
My sister Jean was a very popular and gregarious girl who was a good tennis player
and golfer. She was close to all of her family. As an adult she married Daggett Harvey, the
son of Fred Harvey, the man who created Harvey Houses in the late 1800s, a string of
restaurants and hotels along railroad lines across the country.
I spent six years at a ranch school in Tucson, Arizona, and was given a good
education. My non-school time was spent on horses either herding cattle or playing polo, a
sport I became proficient in at 13. When I was 20, I was a nationally rated four-goal polo
player.
I attended Yale University from 1938-1942, joining the ROTC in the process so that I
