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Looking at some of the civilian planes and the visitors to such events as Langley Day, it should be obvious that the aviation world at least was preparing for the conflict that became World War II. By the time that war started, Chet was for the most part out of aviation, back in Chicago running the family business, and getting himself back into the yachting scene that his father left forty years earlier. But others would take to the skies in conflict. World War II was a major leap forward in the role of aviation in warfare, especially for the United States, which stayed out of conflicts such as the Spanish Civil War, the Japanese invasion of China and Italy's conquest of Ethiopia. For some, however, the "wings of flight" in wartime would end in tragedy, and this is a story of that kind.
Don Gaston Shofner was born 17 September 1921 and grew up in west central Arkansas, where his father worked for the Missouri Pacific Railroad.
Below: Gaston (as he was called, in good Southern tradition) and my mother Vernell on a maintenance car.
He graduated from Morrilton High School in 1939, and went on to attend Ouachita College in Arkadelphia, AR (later the alma mater of Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee.) While there he was in the ROTC and obtained his pilot's license. After two years there, in 1941, he joined the Army Air Corps.
He received his pre-flight training at Williams Field, AZ, and after that his primary and basic training at the Cal-Aero Flight Academy in Ontario, CA. He went on for further training at Luke Field, AZ, receiving his commission as a 2nd Lieutenant in the Army Air Corps on 27 August 1942.
Group at Williams Field, February 1942. Left to right: Mozart Kaufman, Albert Prator, Van Kimbrough, Gaston Shofner. |
The BT-15 training aircraft. As Gaston said, "Boy, I really like to fly it too." He was an enthusiastic aviator. One interesting thing is that he routinely referred to the planes he flew as "ships." |
A group at the Cal-Aero Academy, 1 April 1942. Left to right: W.H. Wamsley, IA; D.G. Shofner, AR; R.A. Litwiller, NE; H.J. Schmidt, KS; D.B. Thomas, CA; S.R. Swartout, CA. Behind them are Stearman PT-13 training aircraft. |
Another Cal-Aero Academy Group photo, Class 42H. Left to right: W.M. Rumsey, CA; N.C. Pederson, IA; W.E. Thompson (Instructor;) J.J. Pursel, NE; and D.G. Shofner, AR. Gaston was being trained as a pursuit pilot at this stage in his training. |
Gaston next to his BT-15 trainer, 9 May 1942. |
Don Gaston Shofner. His letters home reveal someone whose love of flying was only exceeded by his love of God and country. He was working towards his "baptism of fire" and was prepared to die for it. |
Gaston was underwhelmed with the "generic" kinds of services that the Army Air Corps' chaplains conducted, and went to a Baptist church whenever the opportunity presented itself. In a letter to "Uncle Mac," a minister back home, he said "...I can truthfully say that I have no fear of death because I have my trust in the Lord. He is my leader and I know that he is able to keep me as he sees fit. When death comes to me today, tomorrow or in the future I am ready to meet my God."
Upon receiving his commision as a 2nd Lieutenant, Gaston was assigned to the 88th Fighter Squadron in Farmingdale, NY (later to move to Mitchel Field.) There he flew the P-47 Thunderbolt, a major step up and one he was, as always, thrilled to take on.
Below: the P-47, this one at the Tennessee Museum of Aviation. Of the thousands built, only seven are operational today, and two of them are in the museum in Sevierville, TN.
Gaston's squadron. Identified by number: |
- Robert J. Becker
- Amel Boldman
- Grover Spaulding
- Broadfoot
- Burns
- Drury
- McLaughlin
- Earl Pollard
- Allred
- Hunt
- Raruntine
- Grinnan
- Klumf
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- Haviland
- Eigher
- Hamilton
- McChesney
- Shofner
- Masten
- Pappert
- Rockwell
- Randall
- Schlagel
- Morgan
- "Muff" (dog)
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Above and below: Chow time with the 88th.
The 88th Squadron eventually saw service in the India-Burma theatre of war. Gaston, however, never made it there. On 15 April 1943, he took off from Republic Field in a P-47. About 1030 his plane exploded over Northport Bay and fell into Long Island Sound, soon sinking to the bottom.
Below: although Gaston's plane was never recoved, had it been it might look something like this one, fished out of the Pacific. In Gaston's case, however, the engine separated from the cockpit. This is also at the Tennessee Museum of Aviation.
 Right: possibly the last photo of Gaston ever taken, shortly before the crash.
The plane sank before the body could be immediately recovered. The Army Air Corps was unenthusiastic about looking for it, but the persistence of Gaston's family (especially his mother) paid off. In June 1943 the family travelled all the way from Arkansas to New York, and actually went out with the Army on Long Island Sound to look for it. Their determination paid off: the body was found on 22 June, and brought back to Morrilton.
The "ship" (to use Gaston's parlance) was never recovered, and so the cause of the explosion was never determined. Theories such as sabotage and mechanical failure have been set forth.
At 1500 27 June 1943 Don Gaston Shofner's funeral took place at Bethel Baptist Church in Morrilton, Arkansas, and he was laid to rest in Elmwood Cemetary on the other side of town. Like Gaston's plane, his family never recovered from his death. Unlike him, they were not ready for his passing, and the effects of his loss transcended generations.
Gaston's mother preserved the following, which appeared in the Arkansas Gazette, submitted by another mother who lost a son on a "routine" flight:
The Last Flight |
Oh! His wings were bright and shining
As he soared into the skies
On his lips the song of freedom
And God's beauty in his eyes
Brave and loyal in the service
Of the flag he bore on high,
He gave his life to keep it flying
And such herores never die.
So another name is graven
On the shield of freedom's light
There to live and shine forever
Showing us the truth and right.
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Time may dim our grief and sorrow,
But our love for him will stay
Bright through all the years before us,
And we'll miss him every day.
Yes he knows we will remember
And he smiles with love and pride
When to heaven comes our whisper
Thank you son--for us you died.
Oh! his wings are bright and shining
And no clouds are in the skies
As he hears the songs of angels
And God's beauty fills his eyes.
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