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‘I had killed a man, I was sure of it. Yet I felt no remorse….This was war.’

The man who would become the top American fighter ace in Europe during World War II and a jet ace in Korea almost washed out of flight training. After six hours of civilian instruction in a Taylor Cub, he was deemed too tense at the controls, and the owner of Stockert Flying Services said he “didn’t have the touch to be a pilot.” Later, during Army Air Corps primary training, he barely survived a last-chance elimination flight in a Boeing-Stearman PT-17. But assigned a new instructor, he managed to complete his flight training. Francis Gabreski never looked back, embarking on a storied 27-year Air Force career that led in his twilight years to his designation as “America’s greatest living ace.”

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Born Francis Stanley Gabryszewski on January 28, 1919, he was the third of five children of Polish immigrants reared in Oil City, Pa. When eldest son Ted started high school, all the family members agreed at his suggestion to change their last name to Gabreski to make it easier to pronounce and spell. “Gabby” became Francis’ nickname for the rest of his life.

Gabreski graduated from high school in 1938 and attended Notre Dame, barely making it through his first two years. Following the lead of several friends, he filled out an application for Army Air Corps flight training, not expecting to be accepted. He passed the physical exams, however, and in July 1940 was sent to Parks Air College in East St. Louis for primary training. After his initial misadventures, Gabby went on to basic flight training in Vultee BT-13s and advanced training in North American AT-6s, graduating in March 1941. His first assignment was to a fighter group at Wheeler Field, Hawaii, flying Boeing P-26s, Curtiss P-36s and P-40s. He admitted to approaching every new fighter with some anxiety, but gradually adjusted to their distinct traits while flying about 30 hours a month and enjoying the relaxed life of a lieutenant in peacetime Hawaii. That is, until a little before 8 o’clock on the morning of December 7, 1941, when Japanese aircraft roared over Oahu.

Like a dozen other pilots in the surprise attack, Gabby helped push airplanes around on the ramp and finally got airborne in a P-36. He was eager to fight, as he wrote in his 1998 autobiography, Gabby: A Fighter Pilot’s Life “This was it. War was on, and I was going up to do my part. I took it for granted that we probably would be getting into combat. Maybe I would shoot down an enemy plane. Maybe I would get shot down myself. I didn’t expect to be killed, but I’ll have to admit the thought crossed my mind. It didn’t matter. The main thing was to attack the enemy.”

The Japanese were long gone by the time Gabby got airborne. Life on the Hawaiian air bases gradually settled into a routine of flying patrols and practicing combat with more experienced pilots.

Gabby felt strongly about what the Nazis had done to Poland and was anxious to get into the war. Hearing about Polish fliers who were helping the British fight the Luftwaffe in the Battle of Britain, he got an idea: “I was a fighter pilot, and I could speak Polish. Why not see if I could get myself assigned to Europe so I could learn from the Poles and pass the information along to my own people.” His request was passed slowly upward through command channels, and in October 1942 someone in the Pentagon also decided it was a good idea. He was promoted to captain and assigned to the Eighth Air Force in England. After a “dreary” stint ferrying aircraft because no one seemed to understand why he had been ordered there, he met some of the Polish pilots, whose leader had him assigned on temporary duty to their No. 315 Squadron, flying Supermarine Spitfires, in December 1942.

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