Valor Friday

Captain Joseph McConnell

When it comes to those fighting in the skies, no warriors are more celebrated than the ace. An ace is a fighter pilot who shoots down five enemy aircraft. Each plane shot down is counted as a “kill”, though actually killing your foe isn’t a requirement. Crossing the line to become an ace makes one something of a celebrity around the squadron. For those who do it in more spectacular fashion (ace-in-a-day or the top scoring “ace of aces”) awards, glory, and fame often follow.

The first fighter ace was French Army Lieutenant Adolphe Pégoud. In April 1915, when air-to-air combat was still rare and in its infancy, he shot down his fifth, being dubbed “l’As (the ace)” by French press eager for any good news from the front. As the war had already devolved to the brutal trench warfare the conflict is known for, these military aviation pioneers became a source of pride for their countries. It didn’t hurt that most of the men taking on the dangerous job (flying of any kind at the time was a dangerous sport without someone shooting at you) were usually upper class gentlemen and cut a dashing, photogenic visage. At a time when hundreds of thousands of men were dying over tiny advances across the front, the people back home needed any inspirational figures they could find, and the daredevil pilots in their state of the art flying machines fit the bill.

The names of these World War I aces are well known. Of course, the war’s ace of aces was Manfred von Richtofen, known in Germany as Der Rote Kampfflieger (literally The Red Battle Wagon Flyer, or more appropriately The Red Fighter Pilot) and known in the west as The Red Baron. He shot down 80 Entente aircraft, and had expertly risen to fame and eternal glory with his use of theatrics. His nom de guerre of “Red” was from the bright red paint he covered his aircraft in. The pilots of his squadron similarly painted their aircraft in wild, bold colors, earning the nickname “The Flying Circus.” The sight of the Red Fokker Dr.1 struck fear into the hearts of Allied pilots as it inspired the German troops below.

Other German aces of renowned were Max Immelmann (15 kills early in the air war), Oswald Boelcke (40 kills), and Ernst Udet (62 kills). To highlight the danger of the job, even of these men at the height of their craft, only Udet survived the war. Richtofen, Immelmann, and Boelcke all died during the war, and all three of them were just 25 years old.

On the Entente side, Americans will have heard the name of Eddie Rickenbacker, who took down 26 enemy planes and earned seven Distinguished Service Crosses (DSC) and the Medal of Honor (MoH). Other well known aces were Frank Luke (18 kills, 2 DSCs, and the MoH) and Frank O’Driscoll Hunter (10 kills and 5 DSCs). While Rickenbacker and Hunter survived the war, Luke was shot down at just 21 years old.

The British honored Albert Ball (44 kills and the Victoria Cross [VC]), Andrew Beauchamp-Proctor of South Africa (54 kills and the VC), Canada’s William Bishop (72 victories and the VC), Edward ‘Mick’ Mannock (72 kills and the VC), and James McCudden (57 kills and the VC). Of the five men, only two made it home. When they died Ball was 20, Mannock was 31, and McCudden was 23.

Other French aces of note were René Fonck (75 kills), Georges Guynemer (54 kills), and Charles Nungesser (43 kills). Guynemer was 23 when he fell during the conflict, but the other two survived.

While aviation improved in reliability in the inter-war years, it was still too common for pilots to die in accidents. America’s top ace, Richard Bong (40 kills) died testing a fighter jet stateside on the same day we dropped the bomb on Hiroshima. The second-best, Thomas McGuire (38 kills), died while maneuvering out of an enemy pilot’s gunsights at low altitude. They were both 24. They both had long lists of awards capped by Medals of Honor.

David McCampbell was the US Navy’s top ace, with 34 kills. He earned the Medal of Honor, Navy Cross, and many other awards. He still holds the American record for most aircraft shot down in a single mission (nine!). His fellow naval aviator Pappy Boyington of the Marine Corps also received a Medal of Honor and Navy Cross as he splashed down 28 enemy planes. Other well known American aces are Gabby Gabreski (USAAF, 28 victories, DSC) and Joe Foss (USMC, 26 kills, MoH).

The Germans had the highest scoring aces of all time. Erich Hartmann was just 23 at the end of the war, but he’d logged 352 kills and received the Knight’s Cross of the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves, Swords, and Diamonds (a level of award only given to 27 men). Germany also, thanks to their jet-powered Me-262, had the first jet aces.

All of this is to say that you’ve probably heard some or all of these names. These men were well-publicized at the time and their heroism and sacrifices have become legend. After WWII, the ace became less celebrated. This could be due to aces of subsequent conflicts not scoring as many kills, it could be the unpopularity of the wars, or it could just be fatigue about military news. While hundreds of men became aces in World War I, thousands did so in the Second World War.

American military enthusiasts will be aware that we’ve had significantly smaller numbers of aces in the Post-WWII wars. The most recent American aces were minted during the Vietnam War. Only five American men claimed ace status during the war, and only two of those were pilots. The other three were back-seaters on the F-4 Phantom and operated the radar systems. A fighter plane’s crew (whether that’s one man or the team of two in some third and fourth generation fighters) shares the credit for each kill. Which is how Charles DeBellevue (USAF) became the first American Vietnam War ace. His six total kills were tallied with two different pilots.

One of the men that DeBellevue flew with, Richard Ritchie, also became an ace. Four of his kills were shared with DeBellevue, and the other with a different weapons system officer flying with him. The third USAF ace was Jeffrey Feinstein, who logged five kills flying backseat to three different pilots. The Navy had one team of Phantom drivers make ace, aviator Randy “Duke” Cunningham and radar intercept officer Bill Driscoll.

All five of these men survived the war, and all receive the Air Force Cross or Navy Cross (among myriad other awards) for this service. As they were the only ones in the 10+ year long war, news of their achievements (despite the unpopularity of the war) was big news. Both Ritchie and Cunningham parlayed this to get into politics. While Ritchie was unsuccessful, Cunningham was in Congress representing California as a Republican from 1991 to 2005. He exited politics (and public life in general) after pleading guilty to accepting bribes and under-reporting his income. He spent several years in prison and has since been conditionally pardoned.

The war between WWII and Vietnam is often called “The Forgotten War” and the same fate has befallen the dozens of men who became aces in the conflict. The Korean War saw many pilots from the Second World War returning to combat. This time, they were flying jets, and this is where the first American jet aces came from. Due to a Vietnam-era policy that removed aces from combat, Korea is where our jet ace of aces also come from.

As an aside, it was a similar policy that nearly saw the top scoring ace of Vietnam, Charles DeBellevue, nearly drummed out of the service for his feat. The Air Force preferred to have the top ace of the war be a pilot, and not a WSO like DeBellevue was. They gave him orders to report for pilot training or face removal from the service. He did report and eventually earned his pilot’s wings after the Air Force rejected his preferred assignment of training new WSOs. Imagine being the creme-de-la-creme of the service and being told you were gonna have to leave if you didn’t become their preferred type of flyer.

Anyway, back to Korea. About a half-dozen Chinese became aces, and a shocking 50 or so Soviets did, both countries fighting against the United Nations forces (predominately American) that they’d been allied with just five years previous. Forty Americans earned the title. All but one did so while flying the F-86 Sabre fighter jet.

Among the ace of aces on the American side was Guy Bordelon (5 kills), the only Navy man to make ace in the war, and the only one to do so while flying an obsolete piston-engined fighter. In this case it was the venerable F4U Corsair, the same plane flown by Pappy Boyington. He also has the distinction of being the only night fighter ace of the war. The only Marine Corps ace of the war was John Bolt, who scored six kills over the Korean Peninsula, which he added to the six kills he had from WWII.

The Air Force accounts for the rest of the 40 men to earn ace. Some of those you’ll perhaps recognize, usually because of their former heroics in WWII (such as Gabby Gabresky who got another 6.5 kills) or for their participation in Vietnam. James Kasler scored six kills over Korea, but after flying a combined 198 combat missions, was shot down over Vietnam in 1966. He was a prisoner of war for more than six years. He earned a record three Air Force Crosses for his heroism in Vietnam.

The American ace of aces of Korea was Joseph McConnell. He is also the highest scoring American jet ace. He shot down 16 enemy aircraft while flying jets, setting a high mark for future aviators to aim for, but one that is unlikely to be broken any time soon.

McConnell, born in 1922 in Dover, New Hampshire, started his military career in the Army. While that’s not unusual for Air Force men in this time (the USAF had only become a separate service in 1947), McConnell had been in the Army’s Medical Corps as an enlisted man when he joined up in 1940. He’d dropped out of high school to enlist.

He was too young for the aviation cadet program, he bided his time. Along the way he married Pearl in 1941, they would ultimately have a son (Joseph III) and two daughters (Kathleen and Patricia).

McConnell was able to score a position as an aviation cadet in 1943, with the dream of becoming a pilot, 1943. His dreams were dashed when, instead of the pilot training pipeline, the needs of the service sent him to navigator training. He graduated this training in 1944, earning a second lieutenant’s commission and his navigator’s wings.

Consolidated B-24H-1-CF (S/N 42-64435), taken June 26, 1944. (U.S. Air Force photo) – Not McConnell’s aircraft, but the same type. 

McConnell was type-rated in the B-24 Liberator heavy bomber. In early November 1944 he was assigned his crew. They began training as a team. They flew out of Casper, Wyoming, making daily simulated bomb runs on Minneapolis, Omaha, and Amarillo. In January they were sent to Topeka to get a factory fresh B-24M, which they would fly to England. The ferry trip took a couple of weeks, by way of Newfoundland, Greenland, Iceland, and Scotland. Prior to typing this, I never realized how everything along the North Atlantic was some sort of “-land.”

Assigned to the 448th Bomb Group of the Eighth Air Force, they began flying bombing missions from England over Europe. The group had already participated in the strategic bombing campaign against Germany, supported the D-Day Invasion of Normandy, and dropped supplies to the troops in Operation Market Garden.

Their first mission was 15 March 1945, to bomb a bridge near Parey, Germany. As they approached the target, they lost the #2 engine (out of four), which forced them to leave the safety of the formation. They requested a fighter escort, but were denied as the fighters needed to stay with the rest of the bombers. Their usual co-pilot had been replaced by an experienced co-pilot who was to break the crew into combat. It was that man’s last mission, so when it started to go pear shaped, he became extremely nervous.

As they turned to home, the terrified co-pilot (who was now just a return trip to England and would be on his way home) told the gunners to watch the sun for enemy fighters. At one point a lone German fighter sighted the beleaguered bomber alone and lined up to attack. Suddenly and American P-51 Mustang came out of nowhere and shot the German plane down, with the bomber crew spotting the Luftwaffe pilot’s parachute.

As the plane approached Mandeburg, Germany, the pilot called to McConnell for a new heading to avoid the city and its flak cannons and fighters. After some delay, McConnell had to admit that he’d forgot to bring his maps. He did have a chart with him that would allow him to get them back to England. If they made it that far. Luckily they did without further incident.

McConnell and his crew flew a total of seven combat missions over the next month and a half. On 26 April, they were scheduled to fly a seventh, but the aircraft had issues and they didn’t fly. On 8 May 1945 they were in the plane on the tarmac. They’d been told to hold fast, and after a long wait an announcement came over the radio. Germany had surrendered. The war was over.

On 13 June they started the flight home. They flew through Wales, to the Azores, and then Newfoundland to Connecticut. They left their plane there, and took a train to Boston. A troop train took them from Boston to Fort Douglas, Salt Lake City, Utah on 26 June. With all the servicemen coming home, they were all mentally preparing for their next assignment, which would surely be in the Far East. The island hopping campaign of the Pacific Theater had by now brought the war to the Japanese Home Islands, and Operation Downfall, the Allied invasion of mainland Japan was going to be the next major phase of the war. In light of this, they were furloughed for three weeks to go home. They were to return on 3 August 1945.

With so many GIs home, it was a disorganized mess of troops reporting in at the various Army posts near their homes. The men were told to check in once a week until they got things sorted. On 6 August, the bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. The war was expected to be over soon, and with the second bomb dropping on Nagasaki on 9 August drove the Japanese to surrender. On 15 August, the world celebrated Victory Over Japan (VJ) Day.

McConnell remained in the Army Air Forces post-war. By the end of 1945 he was promoted to captain and was stationed in Florida. In 1946 he again applied for pilot training, and was accepted. He graduated with a new set of wings on 25 February 1948 at Williams Air Force Base, Arizona. While he’d been in the pipeline, the Air Force had become its own branch of service.

Somehow McConnell wasn’t sent to fly bombers, but became a fighter pilot after that. When the North Koreans invaded the South in June 1950, he eagerly applied for a combat role. He was initially told no, as he was “too old”. At 28 that wouldn’t seem to be the case to any outside observer, but he was already a combat veteran of a world war, so he was probably amongst the “old men” as it were.

He was persistent though, and finally got his chance at combat in his second war in September 1952. He was assigned to the 39th Fighter-Intercept Squadron, part of the Fifth Air Force, operating in South Korea. He was flying the premier fighter of the United Nations side, the F-86 Sabre.

McConnell fly at least three Sabres, all of them named “Beauteous Butch”. The name came from his wife Pearl, whom he gave the nickname “Butch” since she was “the butcher of [his] heart.”

Artist’s depiction of an F-86 fighting a MiG-25

McConnell had excellent eyesight, and became a skilled MiG hunter over North Korea. Over the course of just four months, from 14 January 1953 to 18 May 1953, he would shoot down a record 16 enemy aircraft over 106 combat sorties. He became America’s first (and so far only) triple jet ace and the ace of aces of the war. In the post-WWII era, he’s the second highest scoring jet ace behind Israeli Air Force Brigadier General Giora Epstein (17 kills).

McConnell quickly racked up eight aerial victories. On 12 April he was attacked by Soviet ace pilot Semyon Fedorets. Fedorets was flying the MiG-15 and scored a hit on McConnell’s Sabre. McConnell gave a quick barrel roll and came in behind the enemy fighter. He lit up the MiG with his guns, and sent the sleek fighter jet down in flames. Fedorets ejected, and survived the encounter. McConnell meanwhile found his aircraft badly damaged. Getting out over the Yellow Sea, he too ejected. Both men count each other among their kill count. McConnell was rescued within minutes of his splashdown by a nearby rescue helicopter.

The next day, McConnell returned to the air and logged another MiG shot down. McConnell’s final mission would be on 18 May. It would be perhaps more dramatic than when he and a Soviet shot each other down.

He was leading a flight of two F-86s on an air superiority mission. They spotted a flight of 28 enemy MiG-15s. Despite being outnumbered 14-to-1, he drove in to attack the enemy formation. Though the enemy fighters were shooting at him, he displayed such aggressiveness in pursuit of his prey, that the flight of MiGs became completely disorganized. He quickly destroyed one enemy plane and damaged another.

Now the enemy was finding their stride, and several aircraft were now firing at McConnell. He looked over and saw his wingman also under fire. He completely ignored those firing at him, and swooped onto the enemy plane attacking his wingman. While the enemy cannons shot at him, McConnell coolly took out the plane pursuing his wingman.

Seeing two of their comrades go down in flames and one get damaged was enough to send the Soviets running back across the Yalu River before more attacks could be launched.

These two kills were enough to make the Air Force send him home. He was a war hero, and they couldn’t afford to lose him. He was sent home with fellow Air Force ace Manuel “Pete” Fernandez (14.5 kills). Fernandez had earlier been one of McConnel’s flight instructors. Both men met with President Eisenhower at the White House.

For his final mission, McConnell was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross. He had also received the Silver Star and Distinguished Flying Cross during his time in Korea.

With his second war over, McConnell returned to Apple Valley, California. He was stationed at George Air Force Base. In August 1953 he received a free house built by the people of Apple Valley in gratitude for his service. In 1954 he was assigned to the service test program for the latest model of the F-86, the H model. He also appeared on an episode of Groucho Marx’s television program “You Bet Your Life”.

On 25 August 1954, McConnell was test flying the fifth F-86H off the assembly line. An improperly secured bolt came loose. McConnell lost control. He ejected, but the seat’s parachute failed to open. He died instantly when he struck the ground.

McConnell’s funeral was overflown by 33 Sabres, led by his friend and fellow ace Pete Fernandez. They were split into three formations. The first was a flight of 16 F-86s, followed immediately by a formation of 12 with McConnell’s usual spot left empty. The third group of six was formed into a cross to represent McConnell’s Catholic faith.

McConnell’s wife Pearl lived until 2008, having never remarried. She is now buried with her husband. Their daughters would appear to still be living, but their son, Joseph III, died young as well. He was just seven when his father died, and served as a fireman in the Navy during the Vietnam War. He died in 1993 at the age of 46.

McConnell was remembered by one of his B-24 crewmen as “a born flyer, a devil may care, happy go lucky, never care or take anything seriously type of guy.” On his own successes in the sky, McConnell said, “It’s the teamwork out here that counts. The lone wolf stuff is out.Your life always depends on your wingman and his life on you. I may get credit for a MiG, but it’s the team that does it, not myself alone.”

Category: Air Force, Distinguished Service Cross, Historical, Korea, Valor, We Remember