This is a story I sent to a cousin who wanted to know more about some of my victories.
First about air to air combat: a lad recently asked me if it was hard to shoot down an enemy plane. I could only tell him it depended on the circumstances. Some victories were unbelievably lucky, others were exceedingly difficult, and it was only by the grace of God that I was the victor instead of the vanquished. As in hunting, you don't aim at the animal if it is flying or running; your bullet would end up behind it. You must aim ahead and hope your bullet will be at the same place at the same time as the animal/bird. And so it is in aerial combat. I had to aim well ahead of the enemy plane and hope it and my bullets would meet at the same place and time. Duck hunting is something like that except the hunter is standing still when he is shooting. In my case, my target was usually moving between 300 and 450 mph, and I was flying about the same speed.
This is the story of my first two victories. It was the 28th of June 1944 and we were on a fighter sweep over Ploesti, Rumania, 534 miles from my base. Ploesti was one of the last natural sources of oil for Germany, and was strongly defended. A fighter sweep is when we go looking for enemy planes and are not escorting bombers as most of our missions were.
As we neared Ploesti we were flying between 24 and 25,000 feet just below an overcast. Our other two squadrons were flying above the overcast. Suddenly on my radio I heard: "Beau coups 109s at 30,000 feet". This meant a lot of German fighters had been spotted above the clouds. Our squadron leader immediately ordered, "Drop Tanks" and began climbing into the overcast. These tanks which we carried under the wings held extra gasoline and were dropped during combat. My left tank hung up, and I had to go through some gyrations to get rid of it; just in time to see the last P-51 disappear into the clouds. I also began climbing and was surprised to see that the overcast was not solid but layered. Each layer was 200 to 500 feet thick with clear areas between.
As I passed through an open space, I would quickly glance right and left to be sure I did not lose the squadron. About 27,000 feet, I spotted two aircraft off to my left approximately 1000 yards away. Before I could stop climbing, I was in the next layer of clouds. Immediately I turned in the direction of the two aircraft and descended below the cloud layer into the clear area. There they were! By now I was close enough to see the oil coolers under each wing, and I clearly identified them; they were Me-109s, Germany's best fighter at the time.
I was closing rapidly and decided that I would blow away the leader first and then take on the wingman. But about 200 yards behind them, the wingman suddenly went into a right skid; a clear indication that he had seen me and was trying to identify me. My plans changed instantly; I turned toward him and opened fire from about a 30° angle off. I was rewarded with numerous hits (flashes of light) on his bird. He instantly snapped over inverted and went into a vertical dive earthward…with me right on his tail. As many pilots without combat experience do, I had completely forgotten about the leader!! This was a deadly mistake and should have gotten me killed.
The wingman and I plunged down while he twisted and turned in an attempt to prevent my bullets from hitting him. Somewhere near 13,000 feet, he started to pull out of his dive. Opening fire again, I saw flashes all over his aircraft, and now flames and a torrent of black smoke started streaming behind him. This time he did not immediately snap over into a dive but slowly his left wing dropped, followed by his nose and once again we were going straight down.
I did not want to make the same mistake I had heard of other pilots making. After wounding or killing an enemy pilot, but not being aware of it, they continued to follow the diving enemy plane so low that they were unable to safely pull out of their dive…and both died. Since the ground level we flew over varied from sea level to several thousand feet, I began a pull out somewhere around 5,000 feet. Dropping a wing to watch him, I saw the aircraft smash into the ground below me and a column of thick, black smoke began rising. The week before I had set another Me-109 on fire but did not see him hit the ground so was awarded only a probable victory. This time, I decided to take a picture of the burning wreck as proof of my victory.
Dropping down toward the burning wreckage, I switched off my guns and took pictures with my gun camera. As I finished and started climbing, I was startled to see another 109, undoubtedly the flight leader, crossing in front of me from right to left. Flipping the gun switch back on, I whipped into a vertical left bank and opened fire from a high angle off. As I began pulling high g's, I saw several hits along his fuselage when abruptly all my guns stopped firing (a common problem with the B and C models). I then found myself slipping into formation with the 109 as we were both flying at about the same speed.
As I pulled in on his left wing, no more than 40 to 45 feet away, we were both staring intently at each other. Amazing as it may sound, I noticed nothing about his airplane but could describe his helmet and oxygen mask minutely.
Now I was faced with an unusual dilemma. We were flying toward Russia and although I was not extremely low on fuel, if I stayed in this position very long, I could be in real trouble. P-51s returning home might spot us on the deck, and if they identified the leader as a Me-109, they would probably not give me a second glance before they attacked. One just does not fly on the wing of an enemy airplane! But if I tried to turn away, it would give the 109 pilot a good shot at me before I could get out of the range of his cannons and machine guns.
I do not know how long I flew in this position -- it seemed forever -- but was probably no more than 30 seconds. Desperately I decided that if I took out my .45 caliber automatic and started firing at the German pilot, hopefully he would turn away as no one likes to sit still while someone is shooting at him from this distance. This would then give me an opportunity to whip around in the other direction and head for home.
However, as I started to withdraw the gun from my shoulder holster, I was astounded to see him jettison his canopy and bail out. I can only surmise that perhaps I had wounded him or he thought when I reached for my gun that I was gesturing for him to bail out. Who knows? But I took a picture of him in his parachute to verify this victory also.
Incidentally I knew there was a real battle going on upstairs as when I started climbing again and looked around, I could see many columns of black smoke rising in the surrounding countryside from crashed aircraft. The remainder of the flight was uneventful as I soon found another P-51, and we both returned to base.
Hope this is the kind of story you are interested in.
Cordially, Art Fiedler
Mr. Fiedler flew for the 325th, 317th Pursuit Squadron. His P-1D was called "Helen". He had 8 confirmed and 1 probable kill, and the eighth highest scoring pilot in the 325th. His decorations include the Silver Star, DFC with Oak Leaf cluster, Air Medal with 22 clusters, the Legion of Merit and a slew of other Achievement and Meritorious awards! By anyone’s standards a true American Hero!
