Donald E. (Van) Van Ells

Memorial Location

COLUMN:   ROW: 55

  • 1st Lieutenant
  • Fighter Pilot
  • January, 1943 – March, 1946 Marine Corps
  • June 1946 – January 31, 1953 Wisconsin Air National Guard
  • World War II. Pacific Theater (Solomon Islands and Philippines)
  • Air Medal and Presidential Unit Citation
  • Killed on a Training Mission in an F-86 Fighter during Korean War.

My Father was born March 13, 1923 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He grew up in Bay View, Wisconsin just south of Milwaukee, and attended Bay View High School, graduating in May 1941. He completed his freshman year at Marquette University, playing on the freshman football team and enrolled in the Navy ROTC program. Like many young men after Pearl Harbor, he left school after his freshman year and entered the military.

After several Naval Aviation training programs and locations, he entered the Naval Primary Flight Training School at Corpus Christi Naval Air Base in Texas in early 1943. Upon successful completion, he received his pilot wings and accepted a commission in the United States Marine Corps, as a 2nd Lieutenant. In July 1943, he went to North Carolina near Cherry Point to receive his initial flight training in the F-4U Corsair fighter with squadron VMF-323. On Christmas day 1943, that squadron boarded a train for the West Coast, en-route to the Pacific Theater. In California, at El Centro Marine Corps Air Station (MCAS), that squadron suddenly received news that most of the pilots would be re-assigned to other squadrons already in the Pacific as “replacement pilots”. Four or five senior members of VMF-323 remained behind in the States to reconstitute that squadron for later deployment.

My Dad and the majority of the VMF-323 pilots, were assigned to VMF-211, located at that time in the Solomon Islands near New Guinea. They arrived at their squadron location in March of 1944. Of note: at that time VMF-211 included a number of pilots from the famous Marine VMF-214 squadron, which had been commanded by Medal of Honor recipient, Pappy Boyington. Boyington had been shot down in January 1944 and was presumed dead, although he actually survived and remained a Japanese POW, until the war’s end. After he went down, VMF-214 was de-activated, and the pilots were either sent back to the States, if they were close to the end of their combat tour, or re-assigned to other squadrons, including VMF-211.

After completing the initial area orientation and specific squadron combat training to be deemed “mission ready”, my Dad began flying combat missions in the Solomon Islands. These missions included Combat Air Patrols against Japanese fighters (mainly Zeros) near the Japanese strongholds of Rabaul, Kavieng, and Emirau. Missions also included such things as bomber escort and “Dumbo Cover”, which was flying air cover for Air-Sea rescue missions of downed crewmembers. The squadron also flew air cover for several Naval operations.

In October of 1944, Gen. Douglas MacArthur was ready to fulfill his promise to return and liberate the Philippine islands. He waded ashore on Leyte Island on October 20th, 1944. My Dad’s squadron was one of several Marine and Army Air Corp land-based squadrons assigned to take part in the initial operation to re-take Leyte Island. On December 2nd, 1944, his squadron made the long and perilous flight from the Solomon Islands via several en-route island stops including Peleliu, to a hastily built airfield at Tacloban on the East shore of Leyte, just a few miles from where MacArthur had waded ashore. The squadron immediately began flying combat missions, the same day they arrived at Tacloban to protect the Navy fleet just off-shore. On December 10th 1944, my Dad and his wingman sank a Japanese destroyer in Ormoc Bay by “skip bombing” it. This was an extremely hazardous tactic, where the Corsair fighters would fly directly at the broadside of the enemy ship, coming in at high speed and just barely above the water, while every gun on the destroyer was shooting at them. Just a second or two before reaching the ship, they would release their bombs, which then “skipped” on the water and then slammed into the side of the ship. Of course, they then had to initiate a climb to go directly over the destroyer and egress, while again being shot at by every gun on the other side of the destroyer. Not for the faint of heart!!! The sinking of that destroyer was very important in thwarting the Japanese efforts that day to reinforce their units on Leyte, and the island was eventually secured by U.S. forces. Of note: On October 12, 1944, General MacArthur came to Tacloban airfield and presented Major Richard Bong with the Congressional Medal Of Honor. I’ve seen photos of the ceremony outside on the airfield with all the pilots and other service members standing in the background. My Dad certainly would have been in attendance. As I’m sure you know, Richard Bong was from Poplar, Wisconsin. He flew P-38 fighters in the Army Air Corps during WWII, and is the leading Ace of all time for the United States, with 40 kills. Sadly, he was also killed shortly after WWII ended, testing a new jet fighter. Also of note: I was able to track down my Dad’s best friend in his Corsair squadron, and he told me that Charles Lindbergh visited their squadron, when they were in the Pacific and stayed in my Dad’s tent. He said they got along very well. Maybe because they were both from Wisconsin!

After the fall of Leyte Island, VMF-211 continued to fly combat missions in support of recapturing the other Philippine islands, including Luzon. The emphasis became more “ground support” and “interdiction” missions, i.e. supporting Marine and Army infantry troops, and bombing Japanese airfields, bridges, ammo/fuel storage facilities, troop concentrations, etc. My Dad destroyed several Japanese aircraft on the ground and started large fires at several ammo and oil dumps, as annotated in his flight log book (which I have). More than a few squadron pilots were lost during these missions.

In March 1945, my Dad’s combat tour was completed, and he along with his best squadron friend (among others) were sent back to the States to Congaree MCAS, near Columbia, South Carolina (now McEntire ANG base), to help form a new Corsair squadron. Fortunately, the war ended, before that squadron was ever fully formed and sent to the Pacific. While in South Carolina, my Father met my Mother, Iris Graham, a true southern beauty, and they would marry within a year.

After WWII ended, my Dad returned to Bay View, Wisconsin, married my mother and got a job with the Milwaukee Fire Department. He also initially had a part-time job with a Marine Reserve fighter squadron somewhere in northern Illinois. In 1949, he left the Marine Reserve unit and transitioned to a “week-end warrior”, i.e. part-time position with the Wisconsin Air National Guard, flying F-80 jet fighters. He was still a full-time firefighter in Milwaukee. However, in January 1951, his 432nd Fighter Interceptor Squadron was called up to “active duty” because of the Korean War. The squadron transitioned to F-86 Sabre jet fighters and was moved to Truax Field in Madison, Wisconsin. He had to take a leave of absence from the Milwaukee Fire Department, when this happened. During this period, my parents had three children: my oldest sister, Diane, was born in 1947, Vicky was born in 1950, and I was born in 1951. We all lived in a very small home on the outskirts of Madison.

On Friday January 31st, 1953, my Dad’s squadron was taking part in a training exercise. Late that afternoon, six F-86 fighters from the squadron, including my Father, were scrambled to takeoff, fly up to the Canadian border and intercept an RB-66 aircraft, which was simulating a Soviet bomber. I don’t know what exactly happened during that initial part of the mission, but I suspect there might have been some delay completing the intercept (the RB-66 may have been late), as the fighters returned to Truax short on fuel. To make matters worse, the weather in Madison had gotten very bad. An un-forecasted blizzard had moved in and the visibility was at or below minimums. To make matters worse, the only navigational approach aid for landing was a radio beacon, which is/was considered “non-precision” and difficult to fly with available instruments at that time. On top of everything else, it was getting dark! The base actually had “precision” approach radar equipment, which had been in their possession for more than six months, but it had never been installed due to “budget constraints”. That equipment would have prevented what happened.

All six fighters, one by one, attempted to make a landing, and none of them could find the runway in the snowstorm. So, the flight leader, who was also the Squadron Commander, directed four of the aircraft to divert and try to make it to Mitchell Field in Milwaukee. He and his wingman stayed above Madison to try another approach at Truax. He and his wingman were able to both land at Truax successfully on their next attempt. The other four jets were not so lucky. One by one, they each ran out of fuel, and just prior to doing so, the lead pilot of that group gave the order: “When you flame out, bail out.” One by one, after they flamed out, each attempted to bail out using their ejection seats. Two were successful and survived, and they made their way to a farm or house after getting on the ground and were rescued. The other two, including my Dad were not successful. Their ejection seats failed, and they had to try and get out manually. This meant releasing the canopy, un-strapping from the ejection seat, and then jumping out of the cockpit. Once free from the plane they could then pull the ripcord on their parachutes. They had to do all this while the jet was plunging toward the ground, at night in a blizzard. The Air Force would never give me the official accident report, so I don’t know what exactly happened to my Father in those last moments. He may have hit the tail of the jet, when he got out of the cockpit, as that was not uncommon with the rather short F-86, if the ejection seat failed. He may have just been too low, when he finally got out of the cockpit, and the parachute never had time to open or fully open. I will never know, and it doesn’t really matter. He was dead. Sadly, his military commitment with the National Guard was due to end in March 1953 (two months later), and he was planning to leave the Guard and go back to being a full-time fireman in Milwaukee. It took almost a week to find my Father, as his plane had buried itself in a swampy area just south of Wind Lake (about 15 miles from Mitchell Airport), and his body was covered with snow. Paul Poberezny, the former Founder and CEO of EAA in Oshkosh, who was in the National Guard at the time, is/was the person who found him. My initial meeting with Poberezny is an amazing story!!

Lt. Van Ells is interred at the Arlington Park Cemetery, Greenfield, WI.  See Son Marc Donald Van Ells and Brother Ted Van Ells.