Pappy Boyington Shot Down
The sun was already rising on Jan. 3, 1944 when Maj. Greg “Pappy” Boyington led a large fighter sweep from Torokina to Rabaul. It was just the composite of planes Boyington preferred: mostly Marine Corsairs (including VMF-214 Black Sheep F4Us) and sixteen Navy Hellcats. Exhaustion forced him to put small pieces of tobacco in the corners of his eyes to keep him alert.
As explained by Martin Irons in the book Corsair Down! Tales of Rescue and Survival during World War II, the flight followed the west coast of Bougainville before arriving at Cape St. George. They continued north up St. George’s Channel. As 0800 showed on their watches, Boyington turned the sweep toward Rabaul and Simpson Harbor. The fighters were stacked over the harbor between 20,000 and 24,000 feet when a dozen enemy fighters climbed to engage Boyington and his wingman, Captain George Ashmun, dove steeply. The tails of a pair of Zekes filled their gunsights. Their Brownings erupted after the red trigger buttons on the control stick were squeezed. Both pilots flamed their targets.
Boyington’s kill was witnessed by another “Black Sheep.” In the melee, though, sight of Boyington and Ashmun was lost. After the fighters landed midmorning, the squadron intelligence officers awarded seven more kills to various pilots. But the excitement of Boyington tying the record held by World War I ace Eddie Rickenbacker* quickly evaporated when both their leader and his wingman failed to return from the mission, Dane Base on Bougainville had received a radio transmission from a pilot who said he had to ditch, but that was the last message received. First Lieutenant Wally Thompson of VMF-211 had been on the sweep: “When we go back[,] we were shocked that he was lost.”
“Black Sheep” search for Pappy Boyington Shot Down
War correspondent Fred Hampson reported, “The news spread like the chill wind from revetment to the ‘ready room’ to the tent camp on the hill. The War stood still for a hundred pilots and 500 ground crewmen.” The response to the loss of their beloved Pappy was immediate. Capt. Ryan McCown of VMF-321 (who had also flown in the morning’s fighter sweep) led eight “Hell Angels” to escort a VP-14 PBY Catalina on a dumbo mission to Cape St. George. The morning’s clear weather had given way to rain squalls. A report of a pilot afloat on raft was not borne out. Dejected, the rescue team returned to base when fuel got low for the short-legged fighters.
The hunt continued the next day. Before a late-morning fighter sweep against Rabaul, seven “Black Sheep” set off on their own search for Boyington. From Cape St. George they flew up the west coast of New Ireland before circling the islands between New Ireland and New Britain. Flying at low level, they strafed several Japanese barges they encountered. No sign of Boyington or Ashmun was discovered then or in their final two days of combat.
On Jan. 8, the war-weary ‘Black Sheep” left the Corsairs behind and flew to Espiritu Santo. Their third war tour was over. They claimed ninety-three kills. Their feats were already legendary in the theater and at home in America. Numerous Pilots had become aces. But their greatest ace did not return with them.
The disappearance of a legendary Marine fighter pilot
Newspapers across the country carried headlines of the disappearance of the legendary Marine fighter pilot Major Greg Boyington. Just the day before, they had lauded his tying the record of Rickenbacker and Foss.
The “Black Sheep” returned to Espiritu Santo. Some pilots were on their path back to America. Most were on their way to Sydney for needed R&R. VMF-214 had finished its tours, so the remaining pilots were absorbed into other Marine squadrons to fight again.
The island was a major staging base for the Allied attacks from the Solomon Islands. An escort carrier in the harbor was discharging Corsairs. Two fresh squadrons were disembarked, VMF-217 and VMF-218.
A pilot’s mortality
Second Lieutenant Jack G. Morris entered a warehouse to store his pilot dress uniforms: “I stumbled over a dark[-]green duffle bag as I rounded the corner… The name stenciled in black stood out vividly: MAJOR GREGORY BOYINGTON. They were his personal effects. We all knew about his exploits: as commander of VMF-214, the famous “Black Sheep” squadron, and were saddened by the loss.” The bag served as a stark reminder of a pilot’s mortality.
Note: on Dec. 23, 1943 Boyington’s tally had risen to twenty-four kills, just two shy of the American record held by Rickenbacker and tied by fellow Marine Captain Joe Foss. Boyington inched forward with another kill on Dec. 27, when he led another fighter sweep against Rabaul. America was watching. “Record-Seeking Pappy Gets 25th Jap” was the byline two days later in the New York Daily News. In a United Press article carried in newspapers around the country, Boyington admitted that “he planned to exercise his privilege as squadron commander to go up every day in an attempt to break Foss’ record established over Guadalcanal.”
Corsair Down! Tales of Rescue and Survival during World War II is published by Schiffer Publishing and is available to order here.