The Republic P-47 Thunderbolt had the distinction of being the heaviest single-engine fighter to see service in World War Two. Parked alongside any of its wartime contemporaries, the Thunderbolt dwarfs them with its remarkable bulk. Despite its size, the P-47 proved to be one of the best performing fighters to see combat. Produced in greater numbers than any other U.S. made Fighter, the story of how it came to exist is at least as interesting as its many accomplishments.

The development of the Thunderbolt was a classic instance of design evolution tracing its origin back to Alexander P. de Seversky and his highly innovative aircraft of the early 1930s. Seversky, a Russian national, was a veteran of World War One. Seversky flew with the Czarist Naval Air Service and suffered the loss of a leg as a result of being shot down in 1915. Unfazed, he managed to convince his commanders to allow him to fly again using an artificial leg. Ultimately, Seversky was credited with no less than shooting down thirteen German aircraft before the Czarist government reached an armistice with the Kaiser Wilhelm in 1917. In early 1918 Seversky was appointed by the Czarist Government to study aircraft design and manufacturing in the United States. While he was in the U.S., the Communist revolution made it exceptionally dangerous to return home. Seversky had heard of the mass executions of his fellow officers and promptly applied for American citizenship.

Even in his early years in America, Seversky was obviously skilled at promoting himself, because he managed to gain a position as a test pilot and consultant with the fledgling United States Army Air Service. Seversky’s brilliance was quickly recognized and he was assigned as an assistant to General Billy Mitchell. Over the span of the next 8 years, Seversky applied for no less than 360 U.S. patents. This included a gyro-stabilized bomb site purchased by the Army Air Corps. He even managed to obtain a commission in the Army Air Corps Reserve. Major Seversky formed a company registered as Seversky Aero Corporation. Unfortunately, the small company did not survive the stock market crash of 1929. Undaunted by this serious financial setback, Seversky attracted enough investors to form a new firm. In February of 1931, he was elected president of the new Seversky Aircraft Corporation. The Major quickly surrounded himself with several expatriate Russian engineers including Michael Gregor and the man who would ultimately head the P-47 design team, Alexander Kartveli.

The Russian connection quickly produced fruit. The first design was manufactured under contract by Edo Aircraft Corporation of College Point, Long Island, NY. Designed as a low wing monoplane design, this first aircraft, designated the SEV-3, was a float plane. Edo, being the leading manufacturer of aircraft floats, was an ideal choice when one considers that Seversky had no manufacturing facilities. Even with Edo’s expertise, construction still took two years, largely due to the lack of capital funds. Finally, in June of 1933, the SEV-3 took off from Long Island waters with Seversky at its controls. Painted in stunning bronze, the SEV-3 was one of the more advanced aircraft in the world. Several months later and fitted with a more powerful engine, the SEV-3 set a new world speed record for amphibians. One major contributor to the plane’s excellent speed was its distinctive thin, but broad semi-elliptical wing. This basic wing design would still be seen on the P-47 a decade later.Save & Close

Seversky turned out several variations on the SEV-3 theme over the next several months and tried to sell the design to the Air Corps. The company finally gained a contract to manufacture a new Air Corps trainer designated the BT-8. It was very easy to spot the resemblance to the original SEV-3.

Eventually a further development of the SEV-3 would be submitted for an Air Co rps fighter design competition. It was the only two seat aircraft in the competition and this combined with serious engine difficulties would result in a poor showing. Typical of Seversky’s resilience, the Major returned to Farmingdale to design an aircraft that could win the next competition the following year.

The new fighter incorporated a redesigned fuselage and tail section. Designated the SEV-1XP, it was flown to Wright Field in Ohio for the 1936 fighter competition, from which, it emerged as the winner. Further development resulted in an Air Corps order for the fighter, now given the new designation P-35. The one glaring fault of the P-35 was its retractable landing gear layout. In an era where flush folding landing gear were becoming common-place on new fighter designs, the P-35 used a method that was minimally effective in reducing drag, as compared to a fixed landing arrangement. The Seversky’s gear simply folded back into a pod-like housing that protruded from the underside of the wing. When seen alongside many of the worlds newer fighter designs, such as the Hawker Hurricane, Supermarine Spitfire, Curtiss Hawk 75 and Germany’s Messerschmitt 109, the P-35 appeared awkward and decidedly less sleek. Nonetheless, the new P-35 offered performance on par with most of the world’s best fighters.

As the latter half of the 1930s crept by, the obvious increase in tensions in Europe and Japan’s war with China created a greater demand worldwide for combat aircraft. Seversky, feeling the severe pinch of the depression combined with American isolationism was quickly being overwhelmed by red ink. The Major began marketing his aircraft and design experience to several nations. Soon, orders began arriving from Japan, the Soviet Union, Columbia, and Sweden. These production runs kept the factory running and provided enough cash to make payrolls. Nonetheless, it was becoming obvious that Seversky would not be able to continue selling aircraft that were rapidly becoming obsolescent. All the export aircraft were based upon SEV-3 and SE V-1XP technology. If a new opportunity did not come along soon, Seversky would be forced to closed their doors.

That new opportunity arrived in 1939. That year, the Army Air Corps held yet another Pursuit Competition. Two aircraft were entered by Seversky. The Major entered his AP-4 design and Alexander Kartveli submitted the XP-41. In most respects, these two fighters were very similar. The largest, and ultimately, the deciding difference was the Major’s use of turbo-supercharger as opposed to a single stage engine driven mechanical supercharger on Kartveli’s XP-41. The turbo-charger installation was unusual in that it was mounted in the fuselage behind the cockpit. This required extensive ducting to carry exhaust gases to the rear of the fighter and, return the compressed air to the engine’s induction system. This complexity was offset by the outstanding high altitude performance of the aircraft. The XP-41, even with its flush folding landing gear offered only mediocre performance at low altitude and demonstrated a rapidly degrading level of performance above 15,000 feet.

The AP-4 was clearly the better of the two and certainly the best performing fighter in the competition. No matter, Curtiss won the competition with its XP-40 largely based upon its ability to begin full production immediately. Fortunately, the AP-4 was not ignored. A contract for 13 Service Test examples was issued. However, these would not be manufactured under the watchful eye of Major Seversky. He would be deposed as the head of the company that he had created and molded. The AP-4 would be refined and manufactured by a hastily reorganized company and the new fighter would be known as the Republic YP-43.

In April of 1939, after losing more than $550,000 dollars the year before, the board members of Seversky Aircraft voted Wallace Kellet in as President of the corporation and Major Seversky lost control of his beloved company. By September, the company had been reorganized and renamed Republic Aviation Corporation. Seversky did not go without a fight. By the time Seversky was finally satisfied with the settlement, it was well into September of 1942.

Meanwhile, the Air Corps made an effort to keep the new company afloat by awarding Republic a contract for 13 aircraft based upon the Seversky’s AP-4. Designated the YP-43, these along with P-35, EP-106 (an export version of the P-35 for Sweden) and 2PA-204A Guardsman kept the production lines open and allowed Republic to retain the core of its skilled workforce.

The YP-43 contract was truly based upon more than keeping Republic operating. The decision was also predicated upon the outstanding performance of the AP-4. Much to the delight of the USAAC, the AP-4 proved to even faster than the Spitfire Mk.I above 22,000 feet. Although the major contract had been awarded to Curtiss for the low altitude P-40, the Air Corps was well aware that much of the aerial combat now underway in Europe was being conducted at higher altitudes than that which the P-40 was capable of operating at with any reasonable level of performance.

The AP-4 was not the only U.S. fighter to employ a turbo-supercharger for high altitude performance. Curtiss was flying the XP-37 and the YP-37, Bell had built the XP-39 Airacobra and Lockheed had presented the high-performance XP-38. Each of these aircraft used the Allison V-1710 V-12 engine and each was suffering teething troubles. Ultimately, the Curtiss fighter was relegated to the scrap heap. The Air Corps stripped the XP-39 of its turbo-supercharger, reducing the Airacobra to being one of the most ineffective fighters of its day. The XP-38, after years of development, would eventually go on to be one of the finest fighters of the war. However, it would not be combat ready until well into 1942.

Once a contract for the 13 YP-43 fighters had been issued, Kartveli’s team began refining the AP-4, reducing the amount of glass behind the cockpit and moving the air inlet from the leading edge of the wing root to a location below the engine. This resulted in the classic oval cowling that continued with the P-47. The redesigned cockpit glass would also be carried over to the Thunderbolt.

The contract called for certain performance guarantees. Maximum speed was required to equal or exceed 351 mph. The YP-43 bettered that by 5 mph. The fighter was required to climb to 15,000 feet in 6 minutes or less. The YP-43 was able to exceed this by nearly 400 ft/min. The first YP-43 took to the air for the first time in March of 1940. While it lacked armor and self-sealing fuel tanks, it provided the USAAC with its first fighter that could offer performance on par with the fighters now doing battle over Europe. However, with only 13 currently on contract, the fighter’s performance mattered little when the warring powers were putting up hundreds of high-performance fighters with many more under construction. The realization that the United States was woefully prepared for a modern air war was not lost on the USAAC. The flurries of design activity were about to break out into a full snowstorm as America began to come out of her isolationist muddle.

Soon after receiving the first of the YP-43s, the Air Corps discovered that although the new fighter was considerably longer than the P-35, it was no less prone to ground looping. Eventually, Republic redesigned the tail wheel assembly. The new design raised the tail of the aircraft nearly a foot higher. This reduced the tendency to ground loop and improved vision over the nose. The new tail wheel was no longer fully retractable. Eventually, 272 P-43 Lancers would be manufactured. Of these, 108 would be sent to the Chinese to fight Japan. But, not before many passed through the hands of the AVG Flying Tigers (American Volunteer Group of the Chinese Air Force commanded by Claire Lee Chennault).

Claire Chennault utilized some of his AVG pilots to ferry the newly arriving P-43’s to the new owners. In general, the Flying Tigers were much impressed with the P-43. They liked its excellent speed at high altitude. This was something that their Curtiss Tomahawks lacked, having only a single stage supercharger. The little barrel-bellied P-43 made good power right up through 30,000 ft. The Tomahawk, on the other hand, was running out of breath by 20,000 ft. The pilots liked the Lancer’s good handling and rapid rate of roll (although the Tomahawk was a fast roller as well). They were also pleased to see that the Republic fighter carried the same armament as their trusty Tomahawks, twin .50 caliber machine guns above the engine and two .30 caliber Brownings in each wing. The fact that the air-cooled radial engine did not have a Prestone cooling system did not go unappreciated. The Curtiss could be brought down by a single rifle caliber bullet striking any portion of the Allison engine’s cooling system. This was not the case with the P-43. In short, there wasn’t anything not to like about the P-43.

Some of the AVG pilots went to Chennault and asked if they could retain some of the Lancers for their use, alongside the Tomahawk. They pointed out that the Lancer could out-climb the Curtiss and get far above Japanese formations, something they could seldom achieve with their P-40’s. However, Chennault turned down their request and believed that he had good reasons to do so. Perhaps the primary reason was that the first P-43’s delivered lacked armor and self-sealing fuel tanks. The risk of his pilots being incinerated was certainly a real concern for Chennault. A few months later the AVG ferried additional Lancers in. These were P-43A’s equipped with both armor and self-sealing fuel tanks. However, the self-sealing tanks steadfastly refused to seal. They leaked so badly that Chennault displayed no interest in these either. The AVG would soldier on with their Tomahawks and a few P-40Es until they disbanded on July 4th, 1942.

Let us digress to earlier events at Farmingdale. In September of 1939 things were really beginning to jump at Republic. The Air Corps issued a circular proposal in that year calling for a lightweight interceptor. Curtiss jumped in with a lightened variation of the P-40 airframe designated the XP-46. Republic submitted a very similar design which the Air Corps designated the XP-47. Both aircraft offered the same basic concept: Build the smallest possible airframe around an Allison V-1710 V-12 engine. This was also the first design from either Seversky or Republic that was to be powered by a liquid cooled engine. The major difference between the Curtiss and Republic effort boiled down to Kartveli electing to use a turbo-supercharger. As it was, Kartveli& #146;s design never moved beyond the mock-up stage and the XP-46 showed no performance improvement over the P-40.

While the XP-47 program was underway, Republic engineers were looking to improve the performance of the P-43. The result was a contract to develop the lightweight XP-44. Based upon the P-43 airframe, Republic planned to install the Pratt & Whitney R-2180 engine in a reworked Lancer. However, this powerplant did not produce the expected horsepower and the design team upgraded to the Wright R-2600. This engine made a reliable 1,600 hp. Yet, it proved to be unsuitable for turbo-supercharging. Finally, good fortune smiled on the XP-44 in the form of the P&W R-2800 Double Wasp. With a contract for 80 examples in hand, Republic set out to modify a P-43 airframe to take the new powerhouse 18 cylinder engine.

To understand how important the R-2800 engine was to become, it is essential to know that many of America’s best fighters and bombers of WWII were powered by this redoubtable engine. These include, but is not limited to, the P-47 Thunderbolt, the F4U Corsair, the F6F Hellcat and the B-26 and A-26 bombers. The R-2800 that was to be fitted to the XP-44 produced 1,850 hp. Later variants used in the P-47M and P-47N produced as much as 2,800 and considerably more (up to 3,600 hp) on dynamometers.

Slowly, but steadily, work progressed on the XP-44 mock-up, now known by some at Farmingdale as the “Rocket” (an earlier design concept by Republic, the AP-10, was also called the Rocket) Performance projections were impressive. A maximum speed of 402 mph was expected at 20,000 feet. Climb rate should approach, or even exceed 4,000 ft/min. Armament was to consist of four.50 caliber Browning machine guns, two mounted above the engine and one installed in each wing. Fuel capacity was no greater than the P-43. With the increased thirst of the far larger R-2800 engine, the range would be limited. There is little doubt, however, that the P-44 would have been an effective interceptor.

Unfortunately, the Air Corps did not need a short-range interceptor. Indeed, as data from the European war was analyzed, it was becoming very clear that a fighter of far greater capability was going to be needed. The need to fly even faster, at greater altitudes, over longer distances was now evident. The Experimental Aircraft Division of the USAAC called in Kartveli and informed him that the XP-44 contract was canceled. So was the XP-47 lightweight fighter contract. They had drawn up a new set of requirements and authorized a new contract to design and develop a new fighter that would be designated the XP-47B. The fighter had to meet these new requirements, some of which were:

1. The aircraft must attain at least 400 mph at 25,000 feet.
2. It must be equipped with at least six .50 caliber machine guns, with eight being preferred.
3. Armor plate must be fitted to protect the pilot.
4. Self-sealing fuel tanks must be fitted.
5. Fuel capacity was to be a minimum of 315 gallons.

Kartveli realized that the P-43/XP-44 airframe was not capable of being adapted to these new requirements. Therefore, he began sketching a new design on the train returning to New York. He kept the basic cockpit design, stretched the fuselage, reshaped the tail surfaces and increased the wing span. When Kartveli arrived at Pennsylvania Station in Manhattan, he had the basic outline of the fighter would ultimately break the back of the Luftwaffe in 1944.

When one studies the design philosophy of the P-47, one cannot help but realize that Major Seversky’s vision of a true high-performance fighter had been fulfilled. Since 1939 Seversky had stated that any new fighter designs would need to be bigger, faster and higher flying. The USAAF, already unhappy with Seversky for late deliveries and using Air Corps money to fund racing versions of the P-35, not only ignored the Major, they spared no effort to discredit him. Yet, within a few months, circumstances had evolved, largely as a result of war in Europe. As a result, the lightweight fighter concept, liked very much by Kartveli, was a philosophy now bankrupt. Finally out from Seversky’s shadow, Kartveli had thrown himself and his engineering staff into the XP-47 and XP-47A designs. It must have been a terrible shock to find out that all their work was as good as for nothing. A more sobering realization for Kartveli was that the Major had been correct all along.

Unlike the XP-44 design, no mock-up of the XP-47B was requested by the USAAC, nor was any money allocated for one. The new fighter could not hope to go efficiently from the drafting table to the factory floor. Therefore, a mock-up was built at company expense. In early production P-47’s the vast majority of the cockpit section was taken straight from the P-43. However, for some unknown reason, the mock-up, prototype, and the first three production P-47B aircraft were built with an unusual and difficult to use fixed canopy equipped with a forward opening door not greatly unlike the P-39 and early Hawker Typhoon. Fortunately, whoever selected this oddball canopy design was eventually over-ruled and the P-43 arrangement was implemented after the fourth aircraft.

Work on the first flyable XP-47B moved along at a brisk pace and the “eggheads” from Wright Field were invited to inspect the new fighter. Generally, they were happy with what they saw. One problem discovered was that measured fuel capacity was somewhat less than the specification had called for. Only 298 gallons could be squeezed into the tanks, 17 gallons less than the requirement. The weight of the plane was greater than the specification requirements as well. Republic’s design team had built immense strength into the design. This pushed the weight up to just over 12,500 lbs, or about 900 lbs over the required limit. The engineers from Wright Field indicated that these issues could be overlooked if the fighter performed to specification.

Finally, on May 6th, 1941, the big fighter was ready for its first flight. With test pilot Lowery Brabham at the controls, the XP-47B roared off Republic’s wet sod field, getting airborne after a scant 2,500 feet of takeoff roll. Brabham was instantly pleased with the fighters handling and power. Nonetheless, as he climbed and the ambient pressure dropped, smoke began to fill the cockpit. Unable to open the cockpit door in flight, Brabham opened a small vent window. That, however, was a mistake. The velocity of the air rushing past the vent served only to lower the relative pressure across the vent, resulting in even more smoke being drawn into the cockpit. Concerned, but not panicked, Brabham decided to get the ship down quickly. Thoughts of losing the prototype on its maiden flight were all the motivation he needed. Remembering how soft the wet sod had been at Farmingdale, Brabham headed for the paved runways of the nearby Air Corps facility at Mitchel Field.

The first landing of the XP-47B was uneventful. The flaps, brakes, and landing gear worked as advertised and Brabham taxied in towards the Air Corps hangers. His arrival, however, was indeed an event. Army and Air Corp personnel poured out to greet the big fighter as it rolled to a stop with its huge propeller winding down. Nothing like the XP-47B had ever been seen before. Senior officers quickly cleared the field and the new fighter was quickly rolled into a hanger and the doors shut.

It took but a quick inspection to determine what had caused the smoke in the cockpit. Oil in the turbo-supercharger ducting was the culprit. Prior to taking off, Brabham had performed an extensive run-up on the concrete ramp. He checked, double checked and even triple checked every engine instrument. He performed several mag checks and made sure the engine was at optimal operating temperature. During this time, oil had been accumulating in the ducting leading to the turbo-supercharger installed behind the cockpit. The ducting ran just below the cockpit. The engine is fitted with a pair of wastegates that dump excess boost and thereby regulate manifold pressure. The wastegates are in turn, controlled by a governor. At low altitudes, the governor monitors and is itself controlled by maximum manifold pressure. At altitude, the governor responds to turbine speed. As the XP-47B climbed out, the governor closed the wastegates. The oil in the ducts was rapidly heated and began to give off smoke.

The XP-47B would remain at Mitchel Field for about a month as modifications were made to prevent future smoke in the cockpit. Some additional, but minor changes were implemented and surprisingly, no national insignia was yet applied to the wings and fuselage. The XP-47B was never delivered to Wright Field, as had been the practice for all new designs for many years. It was tested in the skies over Long Island. Having been assigned to Republic in order to expedite any required changes, it would remain in hands of its manufacturer until its inadvertent loss in 1942.

In the meantime, The XP-47B reveal ed that it was everything that it was hoped it would be. It attained a corrected true airspeed of 412 mph at 25,800 ft. The big Pratt & Whitney R-2800-17 proved to be reliable and actually produced the horsepower that Pratt & Whitney had claimed it would. The Curtiss Electric propeller worked well at getting all 1,960 hp harnessed for thrust. There were some problems still to be worked out. The turbo-supercharger installation increased the risk of a fire (this is exactly what caused the loss of the prototype nearly a year later). The cockpit canopy needed to be rethought. Indeed, there would be a myriad of minor changes that were to be incorporated into the first production aircraft. But, the die was cast. Alexander de Seversky had been vindicated. His theories had passed the test of reality and the fate of many a German and Japanese airman had been sealed.

While the first P-47B aircraft were being extensively tested, Republic was hard at work at getting production underway in the new plant building just completed at Farmingdale. In addition to this, the first of three new paved runways were completed. Ultimately, the expansion of this Long Island facility would quadruple the size of the factory floor space. Nonetheless, all of this new construction would not be enough to meet the future contract demands for the Thunderbolt. In November of 1942, the War Production Board authorized a new plant to be constructed adjacent to the Evansville, Indiana airport. This would provide the critical production volume that would enable the P-47 to the most produced American fighter of World War Two. Production would ramp up slowly, largely a result of the extensive testing involved. Despite getting off to a slow start, by the middle of 1943, Thunderbolts would be rolling off the factory floor at a rate never envisioned just two years before.

Shortly after the first YP-47B rolled out of the plant in November of 1941, the United States would find itself at war with both Japan and Germany. This only hastened further development of the P-47. An updated and lighter version of the Pratt & Whitney R-2800 engine was installed in the early P-47B aircraft. This provided for even better speed at altitude and a small improvement in climb rate. If there was an area where the P-47B was less than sterling, it was its rather poor rate of climb. Yet, this was not as great a concern as some might think. Ultimately, the P-47 would be used in a role where climb ability was not especially critical to performing its mission.

By early June 1942, the first batch of 37 P-47Bs was issued to the 56th Fighter Group, with the 63rd Fighter Squadron being stationed at Republic’s Farmingdale airfield. One problem faced almost immediately involved the difficulty of changing engines on the B model Thunderbolts. Maintenance crews were finding this operation to be very time-consuming. Republic responded with their first major change to the P-47 airframe. An 8-inch extension of the fuselage, forward of firewall allowed for a new Quick Engine Change (QEC) design that cut the time required to hang a new engine by better than 60%. Not only did the lengthened fuselage aid normal maintenance; it improved the handling and maneuverability. This change was introduced shortly after the C model began production. Virtually every Thunderbolt previously manufactured were retrofitted with this change.

Meanwhile, the 56th was gradually transitioning to the large and powerful fighter. Hub Zemke, promoted from Lieutenant to Major (skipping right past Captain), was named to command the 56th in September of 1942 (he had also commanded the 80th Fighter Group briefly, also at Farmingdale). Zemke was not a man to be trifled with, being a no-nonsense flyer with ideas on fighter tactics that were well ahead of his contemporaries. Shortly after assuming command, he was once again promoted, now to Lt. Colonel. The training process was one filled with hair-raising washouts and several fatal wrecks. It was here that the P-47 established itself as a remarkably tough aircraft. More than a few pilots walked away from training crashes that would likely have been fatal had they been flying a less substantial fighter, such as a P-40 or P-39.

Gradually, the Group learned how to manage the Thunderbolt. Still, there was a new problem beginning to appear. Powerful fighters such as the P-47 and P-38 were encountering something relatively new to aviation; compressibility. This new generation of high-speed aircraft was capable of incredible speeds in a dive. Compressibility is a term used to describe what happens when localized airflow across a wing approaches trans-sonic velocity. The resulting shock wave could lock the elevators as if in a vise. Pilots were running up against compressibility and they were dying. P-47’s and P-38’s were being flown straight into the ground, or even breaking up in flight. The learning curve was far steeper than it had ever been before. Pilots now had to learn how to deal with this new, terrifying phenomena. Testing showed that the Thunderbolt could be flown out of a terminal velocity dive as it descended into the denser air at lower altitudes. This is because as the plane continues down, the relative speed of sound goes up. Eventually, the aircraft’s Mach number will drop (although its actual airspeed does not) and the shock wave will dissipate, allowing the pilot to regain control again. Pilots were instructed to pull off the throttle and avoid using too much up elevator trim. Too much trim or too much back pressure on the stick could over-stress the airframe when the fighter began to respond to control inputs. Pilots who had flown the P-47 into compressibility came away with bruises to verify their adventure. The Thunderbolt’s ailerons would flutter as it exceeded its critical Mach limits, causing the stick to move violently from side to side; pummeling the inside of the pilot’s thighs black and blue.

On Thanksgiving day of 1942, the 56th was notified to prepare for deployment to Britain. Zemke was ready. His squadrons were ready. In fact, Zemke was concerned that the Group was getting to the point of being over-trained. It was time to prove what the P-47 could do in combat. It was also time to see if his training methods and tactics would meet the challenge over German controlled air space. Lt. Col. Zemke had a few pilots that he was worried about. A few fellows were too aggressive. Some others had failed gunnery school. Of these, Zemke doubted that one young man would survive very lo ng in combat. Robert Johnson nearly proved Zemke correct on his early missions. However, Johnson would survive his first brushes with the Luftwaffe and go on to terrorize the Luftwaffe like no one else in the 8th Air Force.

On January 3rd, 1943, the 56th boarded the HMS Queen Elizabeth for the trip across the Atlantic. Zemke believed that the Groups weary P-47B fighters were being sent along as well. They would not be making the trip. A new Fighter Group would be taking charge of the old B models. When the 56th arrived in Britain, they discovered shiny new Thunderbolts waiting for them. These were the latest P-47C’s. Faster and better handling than the old B’s, the new fighters were the best reception committee that Zemke could have asked for.

Almost as soon as they set up shop in their new quarters, they began to hear from RAF pilots that the P-47 just can’t hope to cut it with the “Jerry fighters”. Even members of the Eagle Squadron (soon to be flying the P-47 as well) were quick to tell the pilots of the 56th that; “if our Spitfire Mk.V’s couldn’t deal with the Focke Wulf 190, how can you expect to handle them in that huge P-47?” Little did they know that not only could the Thunderbolt handle the Fw 190, but it would also chase them from the sky over western Europe.

With three Fighter Groups setting up in Britain, the 8th Air Force hoped to have all three operational by mid-February. This would not be possible due to problems with radios and engine troubles encountered during high altitude test flights. Many of the Pratt & Whitney engines were suffering from ignition breakdown and distributor leakage. This resulted in fouled spark plugs and serious loss of power. These problems would plague the P-47 for several months. By the end of the Spring of 1943, most of the teething woes will have been overcome.

Then he saw it. Sliding in from his left rear, a fighter closes in. But, whose fighter? Then, he recognized it. A beautiful but deadly Fw-190 with a gleaming yellow nose. Flying just off Johnson’s wing, the German pilot scans the shot up P-47. Wondering what is going through the German pilot’s mind, Johnson watches as he eases away and swings around in a graceful turn; sliding in behind the Thunderbolt. Knowing full well what’s to come, Johnson grabs the seat adjuster lever and drops the seat full down where he is afforded the full protection of the armor plate behind the seat. Johnson thinks to himself; “let him shoot, this Thunderbolt can’t be hurt any more than it already is.” The Fw 190 opens up on the flying wreck. Like hail on a tin roof, 7.92 mm rounds pour into the Jug. What, no 20 mm? Thankfully, these have all been expended in some other fight. Johnson sits, hunkered down behind the armor as the German pilot ripsaws the battered Thunderbolt with hundreds of rounds.

Finally, his anger building, Johnson decides that he must do something. Kicking hard right and left rudder, the big fighter yaws right, then left. This scrubs off speed and caught off guard, the German cannot avoid over-running the P-47. Johnson sees him go by but is unable to see anything through his oil covered windscreen. Shoving his head out through the shattered canopy, Johnson sees the Fw 190 turn gently to the right. Seeing an opportunity, he kicks hard right rudder, skidding the Thunderbolt, Johnson depresses the gun switch button. A stream of tracers heads towards the German fighter. But, it doesn’t falter.

Instead, it continues around in a perfect turn and slides in alongside the perforated P-47 once again. Johnson makes eye contact with the German pilot. He can see the dismay on the German’s face. There is no way that this American fighter can still be flying. It is impossible that it could absorb such a pounding and keep on flying. The Focke Wulf eases out to the right and slides back into perfect firing position once again. Johnson cowers behind his armor plate as 7.92 mm bullets rain upon the utterly mangled Thunderbolt. Just when Johnson is convinced that it will never stop, he stamps down hard on the rudder pedals again. This time the German expects just such a move and pulls off his throttle. The dappled 190 eases up on Johnson’s wing once again, the German pilot shaking his head in silent amazement. They fly this way for several minutes. Finally, the German waves an informal salute and slides in behind Johnson’s invulnerable fighter for the third time. As before, the Jug is pounded by streams of lead. The Fw 190 swings gently from left to right, spraying the indestructible P-47 with an incessant barrage of machine gun fire. Suddenly, it stops. The Focke Wulf eases alongside again. The German looks over the Thunderbolt. The pilot stares with a look of admiration on his face. Pulling even with Johnson, the 190 wags its wings in salute and peels away in a climbing turn. Having fired his last rounds at the stubborn Jug, the German heads for home, certainly convinced that the mauled fighter will never make it home.

Finally free of the Focke Wulf, Johnson suddenly realizes that during the entire attack, he had depressed his mike button. Releasing the button, the accented voice of an Englishman fills his headphones. “Hello, hello, climb if you can, you’re getting very faint”. It was Air-Sea Rescue. They had heard the entire fight, including Johnson cursing his tormentor. Johnson’s spirit soars, and he responds, “I’ll try, but I’m down to less than 1,000 feet”. Shouting with joy, he eases back on the stick. Not onl y will the Thunderbolt fly, hot damn, She’ll climb! Slowly, Johnson nurses the P-47 up to 8,000 feet. The big fighter hauls herself up, instilling greater confidence in a man who was ready to bail out but a few minutes before. “Blue four, blue four, I have you loud and clear. Steer three-four–five degrees.

“I can’t do that mayday control, my compass is shot out” answers Johnson.

The calm British voice issues instructions to “turn slightly right”, and continues to provide course corrections until, after 40 minutes Johnson spots the coast of Dover through broken clouds. Directed to an emergency airfield, Johnson circles but cannot spot the sod runway. After checking his fuel, he pushes the mike button;

“Mayday control, this is blue four, I’m ok now. I’m going to fly onto Manston. I’d like to land back at my outfit.”

Johnson continues on to Manston. Contacting the tower, he describes his situation. The last test comes as he moves the landing gear lever to the “down” position. Not only does the gear drop and lock, but by some miracle, the tires have not been hit. Easing onto the grass, Johnson has no flaps and no brakes. The big fighter does not slow and is heading towards a row of RAF Spitfires and Typhoons parked at the end of the runway. In desperation, he stomps on the left rudder pedal. The Thunderbolt ground loops and slides backward in between two of the British fighters just like it had been parked there.

Robert Johnson would go on to shoot down 28 (revised down to 27 after the war) German fighters, with 6 probables and 4 more damaged. After the war, Luftwaffe records indicated that Johnson might have shot down as many as 32 German fighters. Johnson flew 91 combat missions. On those missions, he encountered German fighters 43 times. In 36 of the 43 encounters, Johnson fired his guns at the enemy. A result of those 36 instances where he fired on German aircraft, 37 of those aircraft were hit; with as few as 27 or as many as 32 going down. Rather impressive for a pilot who flunked gunnery school.

Events were really beginning to speed up in the ETO. Yet, on the other side of the world, the P-47 was about to enter service against the Japanese. How successful would the massive Thunderbolt be against the lightweight and agile fighters of the Japanese Army Air Force and the much vaunted Zero of the Imperial Japanese Navy?

There were stark differences between the air war in Europe and that being fought over the enormous expanse of the Pacific. Recall that the limited range of the P-47 had presented some serious problems with bomber escort in the ETO. Now consider the situation in the vastness of the South Pacific.

General Kenney’s 5th Air Force was deeply involved with the struggle of pushing the Japanese out of the Southwest Pacific area. The only Army Air Force fighter capable of bringing the war to the Japanese was the Lockheed P-38 Lightning. Round trip missions frequently exceeded 800 miles for the Lightning. On occasion, the P-38 was required to venture more than 600 miles to find and attack Japanese air assets. For shorter range missions, various models of the Curtiss P-40 were most commonly used. Incredibly, some squadrons were still soldiering on with the P-39 Airacobra to very near the end of 1943.