The Story of the P-47 Ace Who Flew 100 Missions and Made It Back Home

Early Years in Oklahoma

Robert S. Johnson was born in Lorton, Oklahoma, on February 21, 1920. He grew up where open skies were part of daily life, and airplanes were still rare enough to stir wonder. His father worked for the railroad, and his mother was a teacher. He spent much of his childhood listening to stories from local veterans of the First World War.

From a young age, Johnson had a deep interest in engines and aircraft. He built model planes and flew them across nearby fields, using his hands and imagination to bring them to life. As a teenager, he saved money for flying lessons and learned to fly from a makeshift airstrip near his town.

Training for War

When the U.S. entered World War II, Johnson already had solid flight skills and a calmness under pressure. In 1941, he joined the Army Air Forces and entered pilot training. The training was demanding—long hours in the Texas sun, a mix of classroom lessons, and practical time in the Stearman PT-17. Many trainees struggled with the basics, but Johnson showed a natural feel for flight. He quickly gained a reputation for balancing instinct with discipline.

His skill caught the attention of Colonel Hubert “Hub” Zemke, leader of the 56th Fighter Group. Zemke needed pilots who could push the Republic P-47 Thunderbolt to its limits. The aircraft was known for its strength, speed, and ability to keep flying even after taking heavy damage. Johnson seemed well-suited for it.

First Missions Over Europe

In January 1943, Johnson and the 56th Fighter Group sailed to England. They finally settled at Halesworth in Suffolk. Their job was to escort bomber formations—mostly B-17s and B-24s—on long missions deep into Germany. The threat came from German fighters like the FW 190 and Bf 109, which attacked from above or out of the clouds.

During his first missions, Johnson had to get used to the fear and confusion of real combat. Tracer fire, sudden dives, and the risk of being shot down were all part of the job. But he focused on formation flying and followed Zemke’s rules on energy use and fire control.

Surviving Heavy Damage

Johnson’s first serious test came in May 1943 over Antwerp. His Thunderbolt was hit by 20mm cannon fire. The plane shook and took damage, but it stayed in the air. He learned not to trust luck, but rather to stay calm and keep flying.

On June 26, 1943, Johnson flew a mission over Abbeville that became legendary. After taking more hits, including from anti-aircraft fire and an FW 190 fighter, his cockpit was shredded and oil covered the windshield. Nearly blind, he kept flying straight. The German pilot emptied his guns trying to finish him off but failed. As the enemy flew past, he reportedly raised a hand in respect. Johnson then landed the shot-up plane without landing gear. Mechanics later counted over 200 bullet holes, but the aircraft held together.

Becoming a Leading Ace

After that, Johnson became more careful in combat. He focused on smart tactics, using the P-47’s strength in high-speed dives. Between October 1943 and March 1944, he became the second-highest scoring American ace in Europe, credited with 27 enemy planes. However, he often reminded younger pilots that their main role was to protect the bombers, not to chase kills.

During missions supporting the Normandy invasion in June 1944, Johnson led attacks on train lines, fuel stations, and enemy vehicles. He tried to avoid harming civilians and often spoke about the hard choices pilots had to make in combat. He believed that just because you could shoot didn’t always mean you should.

Final Missions and Return Home

In September 1944, he led a careful retreat against a group of Bf 109s near the German border. Outnumbered, he used clouds and sunlight to avoid danger. He waited for the right moment to act and kept enough fuel to return safely. By January 1945, after flying over 100 combat missions, he was pulled from the front to help train new pilots. He returned to the U.S. with several medals, including the Distinguished Service Cross and Silver Star, though he never saw them as proof of superiority—only reminders of the war’s demands.

Johnson came home the way few did: alive, experienced, and humble.