German Pilots Mocked The Tuskegee ‘Red Tails’ — Then U.S. Aces Racked Up Over 100 Kills….

July 2nd, 1943. Castell Vatrono airfield, Sicily. The Fauler Wolf 190’s pilot never saw the P40 Warhawk diving from above until machine gun fire tore through his fuselage, sending his aircraft spiraling toward the Sicilian countryside below. First Lieutenant Charles B. Hall, a 22-year-old from Brazil, Indiana, had just recorded what German Luftwaffer commanders believed impossible.
A black pilot had shot down one of their elite fighter aircraft. The swastika painted on Hall’s P40L Warhawk that afternoon would become the first of 112 enemy aircraft destroyed by the men the Germans would reportedly come to call Schwartza Foglemention, the Black Birdman. In Nazi Germany, racial doctrine classified black people as unto mench, subhuman, incapable of mastering complex machinery or demonstrating courage in combat.
The Nuremberg laws had forbidden marriages between Germans and people of African descent. Yet here above the Mediterranean skies, that ideology was about to collide catastrophically with reality as 992 trained pilots from Tuskegee, Alabama would systematically demolish both German aircraft and German assumptions about racial superiority.
What the Luftvafer pilots didn’t know as they climbed to intercept American bombers in 1943 was that they were about to face some of the most rigorously trained, highly motivated fighter pilots in the entire United States Army Air Forces. men who had overcome obstacles their white counterparts never faced, who had trained harder and longer than standard pilots, and who carried into battle not just the weight of national duty, but the burden of proving an entire race’s capability.
The mathematics of aerial combat would soon be written in the skies over Europe. 15,000 combat sorties, 1,578 missions, 112 aerial victories, and a bomber escort loss rate significantly lower than white fighter groups. Statistics that would force even the most fanatical Nazi ideologues to confront the bankruptcy of their racial theories.
The journey toward that first aerial victory began not in combat, but in the hostile environment of American segregation. In 1925, the US Army War College had published a report titled Employment of Negro Manpower in War that concluded, “Compared to the white man, he is admittedly of inferior mentality. He is inherently weak in character.
” This official military assessment claimed that black soldiers lacked the intelligence for technical roles and the courage for combat leadership. Yet, even as military leaders clung to these prejudices, a small group of black Americans was already proving them wrong. Eugene Bullard had flown for France in World War I because America wouldn’t let him serve.
Bessie Coleman had earned her pilot’s license in France in 1921 when no American flight school would accept her. By the 1930s, the Coffee School of Aeronautics in Chicago had trained dozens of black civilian pilots, demonstrating that flying skill knew no racial boundaries. The pressure for change intensified as war clouds gathered over Europe.
Civil rights leaders like Walter White of the Nelt ACP, Labour leader A. Philip Randolph and Judge William H. Hasty lobbied relentlessly for black inclusion in military aviation. Black newspapers, the Chicago Defender, the Pittsburgh Courier, the Baltimore Afroamerican hammered the Roosevelt administration with a simple question.
How could America fight for democracy abroad while denying it at home? On April 3rd, 1939, Public Law 18 finally cracked open the door. Senator Harry H. Schwarz had inserted an amendment requiring the civilian pilot training program to include one or more schools designated by the Civil Aeronautics Authority for the training of any negro air pilot.
It was a grudging concession wrapped in segregation, but it was a beginning. When Franklin Roosevelt ran for an unprecedented third term in 1940, he needed black votes in key northern cities. On January 16th, 1941, Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson announced the formation of the 99th Pursuit Squadron, an all black flying unit.
The announcement came with a caveat that revealed the military’s expectations. This would be an experiment to test whether blacks could be trained as combat pilots. Captain Benjamin O. Davis Jr. understood the weight of command when he led 26 pilots of the 99th Fighter Squadron to North Africa in April 1943. The son of America’s first black general, Davis had endured four years of silent treatment at West Point, where no white cadet would speak to him outside of official duties.
Now he commanded men who carried not just their own hopes, but the aspirations of 13 million black Americans. The 99th arrived at Farjuna, Tunisia, attached to the 33rd Fighter Group under Colonel William W. Mommy, a commander who made no secret of his skepticism about black pilots. Mierre assigned them patrol missions over the Mediterranean, keeping them away from the real action.
He wanted them to fail, and when they didn’t immediately excel, he had his excuse. The morning of June 2nd, 1943 marked their first combat mission. An attack on the Italian-held island of Pantileria. As their worn P40 Warhawks climbed toward their targets, German fighters suddenly appeared.
The Tuskegee pilots held formation, protecting their bombers. No aircraft were lost on either side, but the Germans had learned their first lesson. These pilots wouldn’t break under pressure. But it was July 2nd, 1943 that changed everything. Charles Hall was flying his eighth mission, escorting B25 Mitchell bombers attacking Castell Vatrano airfield in Sicily.
Two Fauler Wolf 190s bore down on the bomber formation. Hall later testified, “I saw two Fauler Wolves following the bombers just after the bombs were dropped. I headed for the space between the fighters and bombers and managed to turn inside the Jerry’s. I fired a long burst and saw my traces penetrate the second aircraft.
He was turning to the left but suddenly fell off and headed straight into the ground. When Hall landed, the entire base erupted. Black ground crews who had endured months of insults from white personnel finally had their answer to every slight. Hall’s victory was the first aerial kill by a black American pilot in US military history.
By January 1944, the 99th Fighter Squadron had been in combat for 7 months, but Colonel Mier had filed a devastating report claiming they lacked aggressiveness and recommending their removal from combat. The report reached General Henry Hap Arnold, who prepared to shut down the experiment. Then came Anzio.
On January 27th, 1944, the Luftwaffer launched massive raids on Allied forces at the Anio beach head. 15 pilots of the 99th flying obsolete P40s encountered superior Fauler Wolf 190s over the battlefield. What followed would silence the critics forever. The 99th shot down multiple enemy aircraft. Sources vary between eight and 13 kills over two days.
Captain Charles Hall claimed two more victories, bringing his total to three. In two days, flying inferior equipment, they had destroyed more enemy aircraft than they had in their previous 7 months of combat. The War Department launched a study comparing the 99th with other P40 squadrons and concluded they were performing just as well as white units.
The success at Anzio proved black pilots could excel in combat when given the opportunity. In May 1944, the 332nd Fighter Group, combining the 99th, 100th, 3001st, and 3002nd Fighter squadrons received orders that would transform them from outcasts to legends. They would join the 15th Air Force as bomber escorts, flying the long, dangerous missions deep into Nazi Germany.
Colonel Benjamin Davis gathered his pilots at Rammitelli airfield on Italy’s Adriatic coast. We cannot afford to lose bombers. He told them, “Our job is not to be aces. Our job is to bring those bombers home.” This directive would define their combat philosophy. Stay with the bombers no matter what. In June 1944, General Nathan Twining ordered a systematic marking system for fighter groups.
Each would receive distinctive colors for instant identification. The 332nd was assigned red. Not just red noses or red bands, but entire tail sections painted crimson. The P-51 Mustangs with their red tails, red propeller spinners, and red nose bands became instantly recognizable. The first bomber crews to receive red tail escorts didn’t know their protectors were black.
They only knew that these fighters stayed close, never abandoning them for easy kills. Word spread through the bomber groups. Request the Red Tales if you can get them. July 18th, 1944 would test the Red Tales like never before. Colonel Davis led 66 Mustangs to rendevous with bombers targeting the Luftvafa base at Meming, Germany. The bombers were late.

Davis made a crucial decision. orbit in enemy territory rather than return to base. When the bombers finally appeared, so did the Luftvafer, approximately 100 German fighters attacking from multiple directions. The Germans had learned that overwhelming numbers might break the Red Tails protective screen. Despite fierce defense by the 332nd, who claimed 11 to 12 victories, 15 B17 fell to enemy fighters in 20 minutes of savage combat.
The 332nd lost three pilots. Lieutenants Robert Hutton, Wellington Irving, and Alfred Brown. Critics claimed the high bomber losses proved black pilots couldn’t handle major battles. But operational analysis revealed the truth. The 332nd had arrived at an impossible situation with massive German forces already engaging the bombers.
They had prevented complete disaster. By March 1945, the Luftvafer’s conventional fighters could barely challenge Allied air supremacy. But Germany had one last card. The Messmitt Mi262, the world’s first operational jet fighter. With a top speed of 540 mph, it could outrun any propeller-driven aircraft. On March 24th, 1945, the 332nd Fighter Group received its most challenging assignment, escort bombers 1,600 mi round trip to Berlin to attack the Dameler Ben’s tank factory.
Intelligence warned that MI262s from Yagashada 7 would defend the target. Colonel Davis led 43 P-51 Mustangs into the heart of the Reich. As they approached Berlin, MI262s appeared, the largest jet fighter force ever assembled for a single interception. Lieutenant Rosco Brown had studied the jet’s weaknesses. We knew the German jets were faster than we were.
Instead of going directly after them, we went away from them and then turned into their blind spots, he explained. Brown shot down one MI262, reporting, “I pulled up at him in a 15° climb and fired three long bursts from 2,000 ft at 8:00 to him. Almost immediately, the pilot bailed out from about 24,500 ft.
Lieutenant Earl Lane performed what many considered impossible, shooting down an MI262 with a 2,000yard deflection shot using the new K14 computing gun site. Lieutenant Charles Brantley claimed the third jet victory that day. The destruction of three M262s in a single engagement represented more jets than most fighter groups would destroy in the entire war.
The Red Tales had just exceeded the total of all previous American ME262 kills in one afternoon. The 332nd Fighter Group earned a distinguished unit citation for this mission. Not all encounters between Tuskegee airmen and Germans ended in victory. 32 pilots became prisoners of war, and their experiences revealed complex interactions between Nazi ideology and military reality.
Lieutenant Alexander Jefferson was shot down on August 12th, 1944 during his 19th mission. His P-51 took flack over southern France while strafing radar installations. At his interrogation, the German officer had extensive intelligence about the 332nd Fighter Group. The interrogator had information about Ramatelli airfield, about our squadron commanders, even details about my parents’ home in Detroit, Jefferson recalled.
He knew my father was a teacher and my mother’s maiden name. Their intelligence was frighteningly thorough. Inside Starlag Luft 3, Jefferson found himself treated like any other American officer. White PSWs from bomber crews often approached him with gratitude for red tail protection. These interactions, impossible in segregated America, occurred naturally in German prison camps.
The irony wasn’t lost on Jefferson. Here I was in a Nazi P camp, being treated more equally by white Americans than I would be back home. When the war ended and Jefferson returned to the United States, he was immediately segregated at the disembarkation point. While German pilots reportedly acknowledged the Red Tale’s skill with the nickname Schwvartza Foglemention, American bomber crews became their most vocal champions.
These men who faced death on every mission cared nothing about race, only survival. Bomber crews developed their own mythology about the Red Tales. Stories spread about their distinctive flying style, the way they waggled their wings in greeting, their tight formations, their refusal to abandon damaged bombers.
Red tail angels became the bomber crews name for them. The statistics supported the bomber crews preferences. Research by Air Force historian Dr. Daniel Hullman revealed that bombers under 332nd Fighter Group escort lost only 27 aircraft to enemy fighters compared to an average of 46 for other P-51 groups of the 15th Air Force.
This superior protection rate occurred despite the Red Tales flying some of the longest and most dangerous missions of the war. By war’s end, the Tuskegee airmen had compiled a combat record that demolished every pre-war assumption about black military capability. Combat operations, 1,578 combat missions flown. 15,000 plus individual sorties completed.
179 bomber escort missions. 311 missions for the 15th Air Force. Enemy aircraft destroyed. 112 enemy aircraft destroyed in aerial combat. 150 enemy aircraft destroyed on the ground. Three Mi262 jet fighters shot down on March 24th, 1945. Ground targets destroyed 950 rail cars, trucks, and motor vehicles.
254 locomotive engines. TA22 former Italian destroyer Juspe Misori damaged beyond repair on June 25th, 1944. Protection record 27 bombers lost to enemy fighters versus 46 average for other groups. Superior protection rate maintained across 179 escort missions. Individual achievements, Lee Archer, four confirmed victories.
Joseph Ellbury, four victories, including three FW19s on July 12th, 1944. Edward Toppins, four victories. Clarence Leester, three kills in one mission, July 18th, 1944. Decorations earned 96 distinguished flying crosses, 332nd fighter group pilots, 744 air medals, 14 bronze stars, eight purple hearts, three distinguished unit citations for the 99th fighter squadron, one distinguished unit citation for the 332nd fighter group.
Human cost 66 pilots killed in action. 32 pilots captured as prisoners of war. 84 killed in training and non-combat missions. The transformation from mockery to respect wasn’t just about courage. It reflected superior American training methods and technological advantages the Red Tales wielded with precision.
At Tuskegee, pilots flew more hours than their white counterparts, 300 compared to 200 for white pilots. They practiced formation flying obsessively knowing that in combat discipline would be their edge. The wash out rate at Tuskegee was 60% compared to 40% for white cadetses. Only the very best survived the program, creating what Colonel Noel Parish, Tuskegee commander, called a super selected group.
The progression through aircraft types told its own story. The 99th began with handme-down P40 Warhawks already obsolete when they arrived in North Africa. These liquid cooled Allison engine fighters were inferior to German BF19s and FW19s in almost every performance metric. Yet the Tuskegee pilots used the P40s superior turning ability and rugged construction to hold their own.
The arrival of P-51 Mustangs in July 1944 transformed the Red Tails into equals of any fighter unit in the war. The North American P-51D Mustang represented American industrial perfection. Its packardbuilt Merlin engine gave it a top speed of 437 mph. Its 650 caliber machine guns could destroy any aircraft. Most importantly, its range, over 1,600 m with drop tanks, allowed it to escort bombers anywhere in the Reich.
Behind every pilot who shot down a German aircraft stood dozens of support personnel, mechanics, armorers, crew chiefs who kept the Red Tails flying. Of the approximately 16,000 Tuskegee airmen who served, fewer than 1,000 were pilots. The rest were the unsung heroes who made victory possible. The ground crews worked miracles with limited resources.

Rammitelli airfield in Italy was primitive compared to other American bases. Spare parts were scarce with the 332nd often last in line for supplies. Yet their aircraft availability rate, the percentage of planes ready for combat, equaled or exceeded that of white units. These ground crews also faced combat. German raids on Rammitelli were rare but deadly.
On March 24th, 1944, a German bombing raid killed several support personnel. The men continued working through the attack, pulling aircraft away from burning fuel dumps. The strategic bombing campaign over Europe provided the ultimate testing ground for the Tuskegee airmen. Each B17 flying fortress cost $238,000 and carried 10 highly trained crew members.
The loss of a single bomber represented a strategic setback that rippled through the entire war effort. This is why bomber protection mattered more than aerial victories. Colonel Davis understood this when he ordered his pilots to resist the temptation to chase German fighters. Anyone can shoot down a fighter if they abandon their post, he said.
It takes discipline to stay with the bombers when the enemy is running. The Red Tails escort tactics evolved through experience. They developed a three-layer defense. Close escort weaving directly above the bombers, medium escort positioned to intercept incoming fighters, and high escort watching for diving attacks. This system required precise coordination and absolute discipline.
The Tuskegee airmen fought two wars simultaneously against fascism abroad and racism at home. Their combat record challenged both Nazi racial ideology and American segregation, proving that excellence in aerial combat transcended racial categorization. While the Tuskegee airmen fought Germans abroad, they battled prejudice at home.
Their victories over the Luftvafer made headlines in black newspapers, but were often minimized or ignored by the mainstream press. The Pittsburgh Courier’s double V campaign, victory against fascism abroad and racism at home, used the Tuskegee Airmen as prime examples. The contrast with German awareness was stark.
By 1945, the Luftvafer reportedly knew exactly who flew the red-tailed Mustangs, calling them Schwvartza Fogalmention. Meanwhile, many white Americans didn’t know black pilots existed. This ignorance was deliberate. The War Department rarely publicized the Tuskegee Airman’s successes. Victory in Europe brought not celebration, but uncertainty for the Tuskegee Airmen.
While white units prepared for victory parades, the 332nd faced questions about their future. The Army Air Forces planned to maintain segregation despite combat evidence of its absurdity. For decades after World War II, the achievements of the Tuskegee Airmen remained largely unknown to mainstream America.
Individual pilots struggled with this erasia. Lee Archer with his four victories worked as an executive but rarely spoke about his war record. “Nobody believed me anyway,” he said. “A black fighter pilot must be lying.” In 1948, President Harry Truman signed Executive Order 9,981, integrating the US military, a decision influenced by the Tuskegee Airman’s combat performance.
Benjamin Davis, who had led the Red Tales over Berlin, became the Air Force’s first black general in 1954. Recognition came slowly. In 2007, President George W. Bush awarded the Congressional Gold Medal to the Tuskegee Airmen. Only 300 of the original pilots survived to attend. Many had waited over 60 years for national recognition.
The transformation from mockery to respect wasn’t mythology but documented fact. The numbers remain irrefutable. 112 aerial victories against the Luftwaffer. Three Mi262 jet fighters destroyed in one mission. 150 enemy aircraft destroyed on the ground. 27 bombers lost versus 46 average for other groups. 96 distinguished flying crosses earned by 332nd fighter group pilots.
The reportedly nicknamed Schwartzer Vogal mention proved that prejudice crumbles when confronted with undeniable capability. Every German fighter destroyed, every bomber protected, every mission completed, added evidence to an irrefutable case. The color of a pilot’s skin had nothing to do with his ability to fly and fight.
Rosco Brown, who shot down a German jet over Berlin, summarized their achievement. We didn’t just fight the Germans. We fought ignorance, prejudice, and hatred. And we won all three battles. The Tuskegee airmen hadn’t just won battles. They had changed history. They fought three wars simultaneously and won them all.
defeating the Luftvafer in combat, challenging Nazi racial ideology through performance, and eventually helping demolish American segregation through undeniable excellence. When given the opportunity, the Tuskegee Airmen soared, transforming mockery into respect, prejudice into acceptance, and enemies into witnesses of their extraordinary achievement.