Introduction

At Pearl Harbor, the lucky failure of the Japanese intelligence apparatus, and the withholding of our own intelligence, set the stage for the Pacific War. The attack, whatever its “infamy,” was a masterpiece of planning and execution. That the Japanese tactics were borrowed from our own made them no less effective. The subsequent horrible destruction of our battleship fleet, and the providential escape of our aircraft carriers, forced our effort from the surface to the air. The battleship and the battle line gave way, of necessity, to the aircraft carrier and the air strike. Ironically, given the ascendancy of air power at that point in history, the Japanese, in a sense, did us a favor.

Mac McWhorter’s story helps to illuminate one of the least appreciated but most fundamental aspects of World War II—the fight to regain control of the Pacific Ocean. This charge fell in large part onto the shoulders of a very few—the pilots and aircrew of the United States Navy. Theirs was the responsibility. They came from no special stock. Farm boys and college lads alike were converted into naval aviators. Augmented by a few “grizzled” twenty-five-year-old-or-so veterans from the surface fleet, these young men were all rigorously schooled. Some did not make it. Those who did went on to become the nation’s finest combat aviators.

And they went on to prevail over their Japanese adversaries, who—despite the fact that they were often derided merely as “Japs”—were pushovers in no sense of the word. Pearl Harbor and many subsequent actions proved that. Prevailing over the Japanese involved air strikes of incredibly long range, with a clever and capable enemy waiting at the far end. But the fight against the enemy made up only part of the danger. Incredibly enough, just finding the aircraft carrier on the return trip, often in pelting rain and darkening sky, was sometimes more stressful than the combat itself.

Combat was too busy for stress! Combat required instant decisions; finding the carrier demanded anxious hours. Each meant life. The latter half of the Pacific War saw the Hellcat—and its stablemate, the Corsair—dominate the skies over the Pacific Ocean. Rugged and dependable, the Hellcat embodied all that we had learned in the early bitter years of combat. It was a winner. But without its pilot, the airplane was just a machine. For it was the pilot who sought and scanned, who tracked and shot, who ultimately was the deciding factor upon which success or failure rested.

Thankfully, success rested with us. And for that success we honor those who delivered it. And among those who delivered it, we honor the first. Here, we honor The First Hellcat Ace!

Noel A. M. Gayler

Admiral, U.S. Navy (Retired)

Author’s Note: Noel Gayler was McWhorter’s first commanding officer in VF-12. Prior to that, during the dark, early days of the war, he proved himself in combat as he earned the Navy Cross three separate times in just a few months during 1942. Flying the F4F Wildcat, he downed five Japanese aircraft to become one of the Navy’s first aces. When his aircraft carrier, USS Lexington, was sunk during the battle of the Coral Sea on May 8, 1942, he abandoned ship as ordered by the captain. After some time, he grabbed a rope and hauled himself up out of the water and back to the flight deck of the listing ship. When queried by his puzzled squadron mates he answered: “I didn’t know any of the guys down there and got kind of lonely. When are you coming down?”

Gayler had an exceptional career. As he rose in rank, eventually becoming an admiral (four stars), he held numerous commands of increasing size and importance. In due course he served as the head of the National Security Agency under President Nixon, and later commanded all U.S. forces in the Pacific. Following his military career, he became a staunch and respected advocate of nuclear disarmament. He passed away in 2011.