This kit was mostly built last summer, then went in its box while I engaged in household cleanup and getting the manuscript for "The Tide Turns," during which the kit wa forgotten, to be picked up and completed this past month. The delay gave me time to turn on to the Super Metallics paints, and this is the second model after the P-47D-30 done with them.
When the 39th squadron re-equipped with Sabres, the F-51 pilots were transferred out and sent to the Mustang squadrons in the 18th Fighter-Bomber group. With news that a sudden need to fill a large number of jet fighter pilot slots existed, experienced pilots who had been shut out of flying Sabres till now put in for transfers, hoping the fact of their previous combat experience would give them an edge in getting an assignment to the new squadron.
Among those who made the cut was 1st Lieutenant Harold E. “Hal” Fischer. Born on a farm near Lone Rock, Iowa on May 8, 1925, Fischer had grown up reading about the flyers of World War II and building model airplanes he flew from the roof of his family’s barn. Once out of high school he joined the Navy and served at sea briefly before the end of the Pacific War. Returning home he went to Iowa State University for two years on the GI Bill, then joined the Army in 1948. Transferring to the Air Force in 1950, he went through flight training at Williams AFB before being assigned to the 49th Fighter Bomber Wing, where he flew 108 missions in the F-80C Shooting Star.
The 39th began flying operations into MiG Alley at the end of September 1952. Fischer later recalled that “After a few missions, I was assigned as element leader to a flight commanded by an RCAF exchange officer, Squadron Leader Douglas Lindsay. He was one of those rare individuals who was truly dedicated to getting the job done. And because of his beliefs - that the results are more important than the methods - he was viewed with disfavor by some. But without a doubt, he was the best fighter pilot I had ever seen or flown with. As my mission total increased, so did my desire to get a kill. Soon the moment came that I had been dreaming about. On my fifth mission, I was number three with Lindsay, when the sky was suddenly filled with MiGs everywhere. I called that I was going to make a ‘bounce,’ turned to the left and surveyed the scene for a moment.
“I saw two MiGs heading north, about 1,500 feet below me,. I eased down and fell in behind them, about a mile in trail. I don't think they saw me, and I pulled up the nose of my aircraft, moved the radar gun sight to manual and fired several long bursts. Just as I was going to break off the attack, the wingman began a slow descent. I called Linday that I had one going down. I followed and when I caught up to the MiG, I rolled around him and got one of the biggest surprises of my life. The canopy was missing and the pilot was gone! When the MIG crashed I knew there was no positive verification on the gun camera film, so I strafed the wreckage for confirmation purposes. That evening, Lindsay told me that it would probably be impossible to sleep. He said that after his first kill in Spitfires during WWII in England, he couldn't sleep a wink. He was right.”
Fischer’s second victory came several weeks later, without actually hitting his opponent. “I made an attack on a MiG by positioning myself about 600 feet directly behind him at 40,000 ft. Before I could fire, he entered and completed a perfect loop. I floundered over the top, and he proceeded into a series of loops. With each successive loop, my advantage increased slightly because of the 'flop' at the top. This way, I was squaring a corner of our circle, and the flying tail helped out at the bottom. I had presence of mind to fire only short bursts, so as not to dissipate air speed at that altitude. Over the Yalu, he straightened out for a moment and I prepared to fire a long burst when I observed an object going by my canopy/ It was the MiG's canopy, followed shortly by the pilot in his ejection seat! When the gun camera film was processed, the seat could be seen going by.”
Over the next 30 days, Fischer scored numbers three and four. He named his Sabre, F-86F-10NA, 51-12958, “Paper Tiger” and painted a tiger mouth around the intake, in reply to the Chinese Communist assertion that the United States was an over-rated “paper tiger.”
On January 24, 1953, Hal Fischer became the 25th U.S. jet ace of the war. The fifth victory stood out in memory for the rest of his life. “The fifth kill was one of both anguish and jubilation. I ended up in a tail chase about 4000 feet from the MiG. Again, I turned off the radar computing gunsight, elevated the nose and fired. The tracers made a small halo around the MiG. Gradually a fire began to grow in the rear of the MiG, and about the time I had closed to an ideal firing range there was no need to expend any more ammunition. It was a dying aircraft, with the entire fuselage serving as a flame holder.
“I pulled up alongside. The pilot was beating on the canopy, trying to escape. Seeing me, he tried to turn and ram me. I thought the humane thing to do was to put the pilot out of his misery, so I slid my Sabre back onto his tail. Molten metal from the MiG rained on my aircraft. Firing a few short bursts, the sounds suddenly changed. Three of my guns quit firing, my left rudder pedal went to the firewall, and I thought for sure I had been hit. I disengaged and cautiously returned home to find after landing that the intense heat from the burning MiG had caused a misfire of a .50 cal. round. The exploding cartridge shut down the guns, severed the rudder cable, and subsequently dumped my pressurization.”
On April 7, Fischer flew his final mission. As he recalled, “My last mission of the war was both successful and unsuccessful. I set up a pass on two MiGs in formation. My speed was such that I rolled over the number two man and fired a long burst that stopped his engine. Devoting my attention to the leader, I fired from about 1,200 feet and this tore apart the MiG. Debris came back at my aircraft in large pieces. I instinctively ducked as parts came by my canopy. Some of them went into my engine and it came to a stop. I smelled smoke and stepped over the side and into captivity.”
It was later determined that Fischer had been shot down by Han Decai of the PLAAF, who hit him at the same time he hit the wreckage of his twelfth victim. After the end of the Cold War, Fischer discovered he had also been claimed as a victory by Major Dimitri Yermakov, a WWII ace with 26 victories, who claimed “Paper Tiger as one of two F-86s he was credited with in the Korean War. Fischer corresponded with Yermakov and met then-General Decai during a visit to Shanghai in 1997.
2 attached images. Click to enlarge.
