Combat Aviators & Crewmembers of All Wars

04/03/2026

https://youtu.be/lxuHbAJIgrg?si=rQu45i7u29yTdq2c

Why Commander David McCampbell split seven fighters against sixty Japanese aircraft during WW2 — and why his F6F Hellcat's engine died the second he landed. ...

03/24/2026

https://youtube.com/shorts/3pEqOsQVN_0?si=imMBS1RfJBWZkqGO

Retired Navy Captain E. Royce Williams was Awarded The Congressional Medal Of Honor At The State Of The Union Address.

03/23/2026

Germans heard whisper of canvas in darkness, explosions tore positions—called them Night Witches, didn't know were women flying crop dusters, cut engines and glided silently, one pilot flew 18 missions one night, 800+ total, died 2013 age 91.
Summer, 1942. Eastern Front.
German soldier stands watch in darkness, scanning sky for Soviet aircraft. Knows sound of approaching bombers—drone of heavy engines, rumble giving anti-aircraft crews time to prepare.
Tonight, he hears nothing.
Then something. A whisper. Faint rustling sound, like fabric tearing through still air.
He looks up. Sees nothing. Sky empty and silent.
Then explosions tear through his position. By time searchlights sweep darkness, whatever attacked already gone—vanished into night like ghost.
Germans had name for these phantom attackers: Nachthexen. Night Witches.

What Wehrmacht soldiers didn't know—what would have stunned them even more: these pilots terrorizing positions were women. Young Soviet women, many barely out of teens, flying wood-and-canvas biplanes obsolete before war even started.
THE FORMATION
When Germany invaded USSR June 1941, Soviet Air Force refused to accept women pilots. But as casualties mounted and N**i advance seemed unstoppable, desperation opened locked doors.
Aviation hero Marina Raskova personally lobbied Stalin to create all-female aviation units. October 1941: he approved.
THE PLANES
Women volunteered, given worst aircraft in Soviet arsenal: Polikarpov Po-2 biplanes. Weren't combat planes. Crop dusters. Training aircraft. Flimsy open-cockpit contraptions made of plywood and canvas, barely reaching 90 mph. No radios, no guns, no armor, no parachutes. In winter, pilots flew in 40 degrees below zero, wind tearing at exposed faces.
Male pilots laughed. Mechanics refused to service "toy planes for little girls."

But women of 588th Night Bomber Regiment turned limitations into weapons.
Because Po-2 was wood and canvas, barely registered on radar. Because flew low and slow—sometimes just few hundred feet off ground—nearly impossible to track. And because small engine so quiet, pilots could cut engine mid-flight and glide in absolute silence.

Typical mission: pilot and navigator take off at dusk carrying bombs strapped beneath wings. Fly toward German positions, climb to few thousand feet, then cut engine completely. Plane would go nearly silent—just whisper of wind through canvas and wires. They would glide over enemy positions while navigator dropped bombs by hand over side of open cockpit. By time Germans realized what happening, Night Witches already gone, restarting engines in darkness, disappearing into night.
Germans tried everything to stop them. Searchlights. Anti-aircraft guns. Fighter planes. But Po-2 flew too low and too slow for modern fighters to engage. German Messerschmitts kept stalling trying to match biplane's speed. Night Witches could evade simply by flying normally while faster German aircraft had to break off or crash.
Wehrmacht grew so desperate they offered highest military honors for shooting down single Night Witch—same decoration given for destroying 10 regular fighter aircraft.
That's how much they feared these women in wooden planes.
THE PILOT
Among deadliest: Nadezhda Popova, known as Nadya. Dreamed of flying since childhood, joined flying club as teenager. When war came, she was ready.
Night of July 24-25, 1942: Nadya and navigator flew 18 bombing sorties. Eighteen missions in single night. Eighteen takeoffs, eighteen silent glides through enemy fire, eighteen returns through darkness to refuel and reload. Each sortie took ~40 minutes. They flew continuously dusk until dawn with barely enough time between missions to reload bombs and grab water. No food. No rest. Just mission after mission while German guns filled sky with tracers.
This wasn't unusual. This was her job. And she was extraordinary at it.
Over course of war, Nadezhda Popova flew 800+ combat missions. Shot down multiple times, crash-landing behind enemy lines. Lost friends—so many friends—to enemy fire, crashes, brutal conditions of flying open-cockpit planes through Russian winters.
Mortality rate devastating. Of hundreds of women who served, dozens killed in action. They flew night after night with death constantly inches away, in planes that could catch fire instantly if hit, with no parachutes to escape.
THE LEGACY
By war's end, 46th Guards Regiment had dropped 23,000+ tons of bombs and flown 23,000+ combat sorties. 23 pilots/navigators received Hero of Soviet Union, nation's highest military honor. Nadezhda Popova among them.
For decades, Night Witches' story remained largely unknown outside Soviet Union. West barely knew they existed. When mentioned, skeptics dismissed achievements as propaganda.
But German war diaries confirm it. Soviet military records confirm it. Terrified accounts of Wehrmacht soldiers who heard that whisper of canvas in darkness confirm it most of all.
THE MEMORY
Nadezhda Popova lived until 2013, dying age 91. In final years, as Night Witches' story finally reached international audiences, she was asked what she wanted people to remember.
"Remember that we were soldiers. Not curiosities. Not propaganda. Soldiers who did our duty. We didn't ask for special treatment. We asked for chance to fight. And when they finally gave us that chance, we proved we belonged in sky."
THE TRUTH
Night Witches didn't just fight in WWII. They proved courage has no gender. They proved determination and ingenuity can overcome superior technology. They proved sometimes most terrifying force in warfare isn't roar of massive bomber.
It's whisper of canvas wings in dark. And silence that follows.

03/15/2026

this is an event that I had not heard of before regarding Galland.
Galland flew into combat carrying lobsters and champagne for a birthday party. Shot down a Spitfire. Landed with the seafood intact. Later arranged safe passage for his enemy to receive a prosthetic leg.
April 15, 1941. Luftwaffe base at Brest, France.
Adolf Galland had a problem. His commanding officer, General Theo Osterkamp, was turning 49, and Galland—already one of Germany's most decorated fighter aces—wanted to deliver a proper birthday gift personally.
Most officers would send a telegram. Maybe flowers.
Galland loaded his Messerschmitt Bf 109 with fresh lobsters, oysters, and bottles of champagne.
His destination: Le Touquet, about 200 miles away along the French coast. A straightforward delivery flight. Land, hand over the gifts, join the celebration.
But Galland was 29 years old, had already shot down 57 Allied aircraft, and possessed a psychological inability to resist action when it presented itself.
"Why not make a slight detour over England?" he thought.
His wingman, Oberleutnant Hans Westphal, didn't object. They altered course toward Dover—enemy territory—with gourmet seafood stowed in the luggage compartment.
This was 1941—two years into World War II, months before America would enter the conflict. The Battle of Britain had ended, but the skies over the English Channel remained a deadly proving ground where RAF and Luftwaffe pilots hunted each other daily.
Near the white cliffs of Dover, Galland's wish was granted.
A formation of British Spitfires appeared below.
Most pilots carrying fragile cargo and expensive champagne to a birthday party would've avoided engagement. Too risky. Not worth it.
Galland dove straight into the fight.
What happened next became legendary among both German and British pilots—"The Lobster Battle."
Galland attacked aggressively, machine guns blazing. He shot down one Spitfire outright. Damaged two others badly enough that both made forced landings, their pilots wounded.
During the dogfight, something went wrong with Galland's aircraft. His landing gear deployed mid-combat—a potentially catastrophic malfunction that changed the plane's aerodynamics and made it vulnerable.
RAF Flight Lieutenant Paddy Finucane spotted Galland's Bf 109 with wheels down and assumed he'd scored a kill. He reported Galland's aircraft destroyed.
But Galland hadn't been hit. He'd accidentally bumped the undercarriage switch with his knee during the violent maneuvering. The gear was down, not damaged.
He retracted it, disengaged from combat, and continued to Le Touquet.
He landed smoothly. Climbed out of the cockpit. Opened the luggage compartment.
The lobsters were perfect. The champagne bottles unbroken. The oysters fresh.
General Osterkamp received his birthday feast from an ace pilot who'd just shot down his 60th and 61st enemies while delivering it.
The episode perfectly captured who Adolf Galland was: a fighter pilot who flew with a cigar clenched in his teeth (though regulations forbade it), who treated warfare like a gentleman's sport, and who possessed the kind of audacious confidence that made him both brilliant and impossible to command.
But Galland's story isn't just about eccentric bravery.
It's about honor in a dishonorable war.
August 9, 1941. Four months after the lobster flight.
British Wing Commander Douglas Bader—a legendary RAF ace who flew despite having lost both legs in a pre-war accident—was shot down over France during a mission.
Attempting to bail out, one of Bader's prosthetic legs became trapped in his disintegrating Spitfire. He only escaped when the leg's retaining straps snapped, sending him parachuting to earth with just one artificial limb.
German soldiers captured him and took him to a hospital in Saint-Omer.
The Germans treated him with extraordinary respect. Why? Because Bader was famous—an ace pilot, a warrior who'd overcome impossible odds, someone who commanded admiration even from enemies.
Adolf Galland personally visited Bader in the hospital.
The two fighter pilots—mortal enemies in the sky—sat together and talked. Galland invited Bader to visit his airfield. He even let Bader sit in the cockpit of his personal Bf 109.
Bader, ever audacious, asked if he could take it for "a flight around the airfield."
Galland laughed and refused. A German officer stood nearby with a pistol, just in case.
Then Galland noticed Bader had lost a prosthetic leg in the crash.
What he did next would've been unthinkable in most wars: Galland contacted the British RAF command and offered them safe passage to airdrop a replacement leg into occupied France.
Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring himself approved the operation.
On August 19, 1941, RAF bombers flew into German-controlled airspace—unopposed—and parachuted a new prosthetic leg to the Luftwaffe base at Saint-Omer in an operation called "Leg Operation."
The British, displaying their own sense of humor, proceeded immediately afterward to bomb a nearby power station.
Galland wasn't pleased about the bombing. But he kept his word about the safe passage.
Bader used his new leg to attempt multiple escapes from German prison camps. He became such a persistent escape artist that the Germans eventually confiscated his legs at night. He spent the rest of the war at Colditz Castle—maximum security for incorrigible prisoners.
After the war, Galland and Bader became lifelong friends.
When Galland attended a reunion dinner for former Luftwaffe pilots in Munich, Bader walked in and exclaimed: "My God, I had no idea we left so many of you bastards alive!"
This was Adolf Galland: a man who shot down 104 Allied aircraft, flew 705 combat missions, survived being shot down four times, and earned Germany's highest military honors—yet is remembered as much for his chivalry as his combat record.
He became General der Jagdflieger (Commander of Fighter Forces) in November 1941, succeeding Werner Mölders who'd been killed in a flying accident.
He clashed constantly with Hermann Göring about Luftwaffe strategy. Galland believed in defending German airspace with superior fighters. Göring blamed him when Allied bombers devastated German cities.
In January 1945, Galland was relieved of command after the "Fighter Pilots' Conspiracy"—when senior pilots confronted Göring about catastrophic leadership failures.
Galland was placed under house arrest.
In March 1945, with Germany collapsing, he was allowed to form a jet fighter squadron. He flew the revolutionary Messerschmitt Me 262—the world's first operational jet fighter—in combat until war's end.
After Germany's surrender, Galland was held briefly as a POW by the British at RAF Tangmere. There, he reunited with Douglas Bader.
Galland moved to Argentina after the war, worked as an aviation consultant, then returned to Germany where he lived quietly until his death on February 9, 1996, at age 83.
He never apologized for fighting for Germany. But he also never glorified the N**i regime. He was a professional pilot who happened to fly in the wrong air force, respected by enemies who recognized skill and honor when they encountered it.
The lobster flight. The prosthetic leg. The cigar-smoking ace who treated aerial combat like a deadly sport played by gentlemen.
These stories endure because they remind us that even in history's darkest conflicts, individual honor occasionally survived the machinery of war.
He flew into combat carrying lobsters and champagne for a birthday party. Shot down a Spitfire. Landed with the seafood intact. Then arranged safe passage for his enemy to receive a prosthetic leg.
Adolf Galland proved you could be lethal, eccentric, and honorable—all at the same time.

03/13/2026

https://youtu.be/vkxVLpVVCUE?si=onu_6ZLn1rjcaUMn

Why one fighter pilot attacked 30 German fighters alone during WW2 — against every rule in the manual. This World War 2 story reveals how the "suicidal" P-51...

03/07/2026

On April 7, 2003, Captain Kim Campbell—callsign 'Killer Chick'—was piloting her A-10 Warthog over Iraq when disaster struck.
U.S. ground forces were pinned at a key bridge in North Baghdad, blocked by enemy fighters. Campbell was tasked with close air support, one of aviation's riskiest missions.
She dove in, fired her rockets, and hit the target. But as she climbed, her plane shuddered from enemy fire.
The A-10 was riddled with damage. It rolled left and nosed down. Controls failed—stick, pedals, everything dead.
Hydraulics were gone; her 50,000-pound jet plummeted uncontrollably.
Most pilots would eject, but over hostile ground, survival was uncertain. Campbell made a historic choice.
She switched to manual reversion mode—a grueling backup most A-10 pilots avoid practicing. Without power assists, brakes, or full control, she relied on raw strength and skill.
For over an hour, she battled the crippled plane across 100 miles of enemy territory, each adjustment demanding immense force. A single error meant death.
Approaching base, she faced the ultimate test: landing without hydraulics, brakes, or reliable controls. Defying odds, Captain Campbell landed safely and walked away, joining a rare few who've mastered an A-10 in manual mode.
For her skill, bravery, and resolve, she earned the Distinguished Flying Cross, a top U.S. aerial honor.
God bless this American hero!

02/28/2026

Grumman F6F-3 Hellcat of VF-25-3 flown by LTJG A.W. Magee landing aboard USS Cowpens (CVL-25), 20 November 1943.
The original caption to the photograph simply said it was an emergency landing!
Magee was aware that something was wrong with the aircraft and brought it back to the carrier under those conditions.
Later accounts suggest that while he knew there was a problem, he may not have realized the aircraft was actually on fire during the approach!
The incident was attributed to a mechanical fault. The F6F-3, powered by the Pratt & Whitney R-2800 Double Wasp radial engine, was generally regarded as a robust and dependable carrier fighter, but mechanical failures were an ever-present risk in sustained combat operations in the Pacific.
Once the Hellcat was on deck, the fire was quickly extinguished. According to the USS Cowpens War Diary, the flames were brought under control almost immediately after landing. With flight operations ongoing and deck space limited aboard the Independence-class light carrier, the damaged aircraft was then pushed over the side to clear the deck.
Carrier procedures demanded speed and discipline. An aircraft fire on a crowded flight deck posed a serious hazard, particularly with armed and fueled aircraft nearby. The rapid response by the deck crew prevented further damage and allowed operations to continue.

02/28/2026

A German Pilot Accidentally Gave America His Secret Fighter — And Changed the War
June 23rd, 1942. Royal Air Force spotters at Pembry Airfield in South Wales watched through binoculars as a sleek German fighter descended through the clouds and lined up for landing. Alert sirens should have been screaming. Anti-aircraft guns should have been tracking the enemy aircraft, but something about the pilot's approach seemed wrong.
The FW 190 touched down smoothly on the grass runway and rolled to a stop near the control tower. The engine shut down. The canopy slid back and Oberloitant Armen Fabber of JG2 climbed out of his cockpit, pulled off his leather helmet, and looked around at the unfamiliar buildings. Then his blood ran cold.
The aircraft on the flight line weren't ME 109s. They were Spitfires. The uniforms running toward him weren't Luftwaffe Gray. They were Royal Air Force Blue. And the realization that hit Faber in that moment was the same one simultaneously striking British intelligence officers across southern England.
Germany's most lethal fighter, the aircraft that had been slaughtering Allied pilots for months. The mysterious new weapon that seemed invincible in combat had just been delivered intact to Britain by a pilot who had gotten disoriented and thought he was landing in France. The intelligence windfall was staggering. But what American test pilots would discover when they finally got their hands on this aircraft would change how every Allied fighter engaged German aircraft for the rest of the war.
For 8 months, the FW190 had been a nightmare haunting Allied pilots across the channel. It had first appeared in combat over France in September 1941. And from its very first engagement, pilots knew they were facing something extraordinary. Royal Air Force Squadron leader J. E. Johnson, who would become Britain's top scoring ace, encountered the FW190 in early 1942 and barely survived.

02/27/2026

26 February 1918 – A Pfalz
Air activity on the Western Front intensified today. In the thick of the action were 24 Squadron RFC who carried out multiple patrols during the day.
Early on, around 0840, one patrol ran into a group of Triplanes. 2nd Lieutenant Ian Donald Roy McDonald claimed to have driven down one which was seen to crash. 2nd Lieutenant Andrew King Cowper attacked another which broke up in the air and fell in pieces. McDonald then joined 2nd Lieutenant Herbert Brian Richardson, 2nd Lieutenant Wilfred Forman Poulter, 2nd Lieutenant James Jeffery Dawe, 2nd Lieutenant Herbert Vane Lancelot Tubbs and 2nd Lieutenant Ronald Tumbull Mark, in destroying another. Tubbs returned with his aircraft (C9542) shot up.
A little after this, 2nd Lieutenant Cowper was attacked by an enemy Pfalz which overshot him on the British side of the lines, allowing Cowper to get on to its tail and fire a long burst. The Pfalz dived down to 500 feet but Cowper kept east, heading it off whenever it tried to recross the lines, finally forcing it to land intact at 52 Squadron’s aerodrome. The pilot Unteroffizier Hageler from Jasta 15 was taken prisoner.
That afternoon, 2nd Lieutenant Charles Henry Crosbee was taken prisoner when his SE5a (B548) was shot down by – Vitzfeldwebel Ulrich Neckel from Jasta 12.

02/25/2026

Mary Louise Hawkins (24 May 1921 – 9 July 2007) was an Air Evacuation Flight Nurse who earned the Distinguished Flying Cross during WWII. She was born in Denver, Colorado. On 24 September 1944, 1st Lt. Mary Louise Hawkins was evacuating 24 patients from fighting at Palau to Guadalcanal when the C-47 she was aboard ran low on fuel and was forced to crash land on Bellona Island. During the landing, a propeller tore through the fuselage and severed the trachea of a patient. Hawkins made a suction tube from several items including the inflation tube from a "Mae West” life jacket and kept the man's throat clear of blood until help arrived 19 hours later. All her patients survived. For her actions, Hawkins received the Distinguished Flying Cross.

After World War II, she received her master's degree from the University of California, Berkeley, in 1953 and continued working as a nurse. She met William Michael Lambert in Saudi Arabia in 1959, and they married in Switzerland in 1960. The Lamberts returned to the US in 1976 and eventually settled in Waynesboro, Virginia in 1988. She died on 9 July 2007.

Nurse Mary Louise Hawkins should have received a Medal of Honor for her WWII heroics!

02/16/2026

Captain Vernon William Blythe Castle, a well-known ballroom dancer has been killed in an aeroplane crash at Camp Taliaferro in Texas.
Vernon Castle, along with his wife Irene were a well known dance couple who danced professionally and acted in various films in the United States from 1910 until 1915. Irene was also noted as a fashion icon at the time. In 1915, Vernon originally from Norwich in England decided to join the war effort and trained as a pilot, qualifying in January 1916. He then gave a farewell performance and sailed for England to join the RFC.
In June 1916, he was posted to 1 Squadron RFC flying Nieuport fighters. He flew over 300 combat missions, claiming two victories, before being posted to Canada in April 1917 to train new pilots. His entire unit then moved to Texas for winter training.
Today, Vernon took emergency action shortly after takeoff to avoid a collision with another aircraft. His plane stalled, and he was unable to recover control before the plane hit the ground. He was killed in the crash. According to the memorial at the crash site:
“Neither the other pilot, his student cadet, nor Vernon’s pet monkey, Jeffrey, were seriously injured.”

02/16/2026

Lieutenant Junior Grade Hiroyoshi Nishizawa (西澤 広義, Nishizawa Hiroyoshi; January 27, 1920 – October 26, 1944) was a Japanese naval aviator and an ace of the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service during World War II. Nishizawa was known to his colleagues as 'the Devil' for his breathtaking, brilliant, and unpredictable aerobatics and superb control of his aircraft while in combat.[1] He was a member of the Tainan Kōkūtai's famous "clean up trio" with fellow aces Saburō Sakai and Toshio Ōta and would see action in the New Guinea campaign as well as in the aerial battles over Guadalcanal and over the Solomon Islands. He was killed in 1944 during the Philippines Campaign while aboard an IJN transport aircraft. It is possible that he was the most successful Japanese fighter ace of the war, reportedly telling his last CO that he had achieved a tally of 86 or 87 aerial victories[2]- post war he was linked with scores of 147 or 103, but both of these scores have been considered inaccurate.

Hiroyoshi Nishizawa was born 27 January 1920 in a mountain village in the Nagano Prefecture, the fifth son of Mikiji and Miyoshi Nishizawa. His father was the manager of a sake brewery. Hiroyoshi graduated from higher elementary school and then began to work in a textile factory.

In June 1936, a poster caught his eye, an appeal for volunteers to join the Yokaren (flight reserve enlistee training program). Nishizawa applied and qualified as a student pilot in Class Otsu No. 7 of the Japanese Navy Air Force (JNAF). He completed his flight training course in March 1939, graduating 16th out of a class of 71. Before the war, he served with the Oita, Omura and Suzuka Kōkūtai (air groups/wings). In October 1941, he was transferred to the Chitose Kōkūtai, with the rank of petty officer 1st class.

After the outbreak of war with the Allies, Nishizawa's squadron (chutai) from the Chitose Air Group, then flying the obsolete Mitsubishi A5M, moved to Vunakanau airfield on the newly taken island of New Britain. The squadron received its first Mitsubishi Zeros (A6M2, Model 21) the same week.

On 3 February 1942, Nishizawa, still flying an obsolete A5M, claimed his first aerial kill of the war, a PBY Catalina; historians have established, however, that the plane was only damaged and managed to return to base. On February 10, Nishizawa's squadron was transferred to the newly formed 4th Air Group. As new Zeros became available, Nishizawa was assigned an A6M2 bearing the tail code F-108.

On 1 April 1942, Nishizawa's squadron was transferred to Lae, New Guinea and assigned to the Tainan Air Group. There he flew with aces Saburō Sakai and Toshio Ōta in a chutai (squadron) led by Junichi Sasai. Sakai described his friend Nishizawa as about 173 cm (5 ft 8 in) tall, 63 kg (140 lb) in weight, pale and gaunt, suffering constantly from malaria and tropical skin diseases. He was accomplished at judo, and his squadron mates, who nicknamed him the "Devil," considered him a reserved, taciturn loner. Of his performance in the air, Sakai, himself one of Japan's leading aerial aces, wrote, "Never have I seen a man with a fighter plane do what Nishizawa would do with his Zero. His aerobatics were all at once breathtaking, brilliant, totally unpredictable, impossible, and heart-stirring to witness."

They often clashed with United States Army Air Forces and Royal Australian Air Force fighters operating from Port Moresby. Nishizawa's first confirmable solo kill, of a USAAF P-39 Airacobra, was on April 11. He claimed six more kills in a 72-hour period from 1–3 May, making him a confirmed fighter ace.

Nishizawa was a member of the famed "Cleanup Trio" with Saburō Sakai and Toshio Ōta. In the night of 16 May, Nishizawa, Sakai and Ōta were listening at the lounge room to a broadcast of an Australian radio program, when Nishizawa recognized the eerie Danse Macabre of the French composer, pianist and organist Camille Saint-Saëns. Nishizawa, thinking about this mysterious skeleton dance, now suddenly had a crazy idea: "you know the mission tomorrow at Port Moresby? Why don't we perform a little show, a dance of death of our own? We do a few demonstration loops right over the enemy airfield, this should drive them crazy on the ground."

On 17 May 1942, Lieutenant Commander Tadashi "Shosa" Nakajima led the Tainan Ku on a mission to Port Moresby, with Sakai and Nishizawa as his wingmen. As the Japanese formation re-formed for the return flight, Sakai signaled Nakajima, that he was going after an enemy aircraft and peeled off. Minutes later, Sakai was over Port Moresby again, to keep his rendezvous with Nishizawa and Ōta. The trio now performed aerobatics, three tight loops in close formation. After that, a jubilant Nishizawa indicated that he wanted to repeat the performance. Diving to 6,000 ft (1,800 m), the three Zeros did three more loops, still without any AA fire from the ground. They headed then back to Lae, arriving 20 minutes after the rest of the Kōkūtai.

At about 21:00, Lieutenant Junichi Sasai wanted them in his office, immediately. When they arrived, Sasai held up a letter. "Do you know where I got this thing?" he shouted. "No? I'll tell you, you fools; it was dropped on this base a few minutes ago, by an enemy intruder!" The letter, written in English, said:

To the Lae Commander: "We were much impressed with those three pilots who visited us today, and we all liked the loops they flew over our field. It was quite an exhibition. We would appreciate it if the same pilots returned here once again, each wearing a green muffler around his neck. We're sorry we could not give them better attention on their last trip, but we will see to it that the next time they will receive an all-out welcome from us."

Nishizawa, Sakai and Ōta stood at stiff attention and tried to suppress laughing out loud, while Lieutenant Sasai dressed them down over their "idiotic behavior" and prohibited them from staging any more aerobatic shows over enemy airfields. The Tainan Kōkūtai's three leading aces secretly agreed that the aerial choreography had been worth it.

In early August 1942, the air group moved to Rabaul, immediately operating against the US forces on Guadalcanal. In the first clash on 7 August, Nishizawa claimed six F4F Wildcats (historians have confirmed two kills).

On 8 August 1942, Saburō Sakai, Nishizawa's closest friend, was severely wounded in combat with U.S. Navy carrier-based bombers. Nishizawa noticed that Sakai was missing and went into a mad rage. He searched the area, both for signs of Sakai and for Americans to fight. Eventually, he cooled off and returned to Lakunai. Later, to everyone's amazement, the seriously wounded Sakai arrived. Struck in the head by a bullet, covered with blood and blind in one eye, he returned to base in his damaged Zero after a four-hour, 47-minute flight over 560 nmi (1,040 km; 640 mi). Nishizawa, Lieutenant Sasai and Toshio Ōta transported the obstinate but barely-conscious Sakai to the hospital. In frustrated concern, Nishizawa physically removed the waiting driver and personally drove Sakai, as quickly but as gently as possible, to the surgeon. Sakai was evacuated to Japan on August 12.

The extended conflict over Guadalcanal was costly for Nishizawa's air group (renamed the 251st in November) as American aircraft and tactics improved: Sasai (with 27 victories) was shot down and killed by Captain Marion E. Carl on 26 August 1942, and Ōta (34 kills) was killed on 21 October 1942.

In mid-November, the 251st was recalled to Toyohashi air base in Japan to replace its losses, with the ten surviving pilots all being made instructors, including Nishizawa. Nishizawa is believed to have had around 40 full or partial aerial victories by this time (some sources claim 54).

Hiroyoshi Nishizawa in his Mitsubishi Zero A6M3 Model 22 (tail code UI-105) from the 251st Kōkūtai over the Solomon Islands in May 1943. The unit's aircraft have been hastily sprayed with dark green camouflage paint on the upper surfaces.
Nishizawa, while staying in Japan, visited Saburō Sakai, who was still recuperating in the Yokosuka hospital. Nishizawa complained to Sakai of his new duty as an instructor: "Saburō, can you picture me running around in a rickety old biplane, teaching some fool youngster how to bank and turn, and how to keep his pants dry?" Nishizawa also ascribed the loss of most of their comrade pilots to the ever increasing material advantage of the Allied forces, the improved U.S. aircraft and tactics. "It's not as you remember, Saburō," he said. "There was nothing I could do. There were just too many enemy planes, just too many." Even so, Nishizawa could not wait to return to combat. "I want a fighter under my hands again," he said. "I simply have to get back into action. Staying home in Japan is killing me."

Nishizawa publicly chafed at the months of inaction in Japan. He and the 251st returned to Rabaul in May 1943. In June 1943, Nishizawa's achievements were honored by a gift from the commander of the 11th Air Fleet, Vice Admiral Jin'ichi Kusaka. Nishizawa received a military sword inscribed "Buko Batsugun" ("For Conspicuous Military Valor"). He was then transferred to the 253rd Air Group on New Britain in September. In November, he was promoted to warrant officer and reassigned to training duties in Japan with the Oita Air Group.

In February 1944, he joined the 203rd Air Group, operating from the Kurile Islands, away from heavy action.

In October, however, the 203rd was transferred to Luzon. Nishizawa and four others were detached to a smaller airfield on Cebu.

On 25 October 1944, Nishizawa led the fighter es**rt consisting of four A6M5s, flown by Nishizawa, Misao Sugawa, Shingo Honda and Ryoji Baba for the first major kamikaze attack of the war, targeting Vice Admiral Clifton Sprague's "Taffy 3" task force, which was protecting the landings in the Battle of Leyte Gulf.

While flying fighter es**rt to this kamikaze mission, Nishizawa recorded at minimum, his 86th and 87th victories (both Grumman F6F Hellcats), the final aerial victories of his career.

Nishizawa had a premonition during the flight; he saw in a vision his own death. Nishizawa reported the sortie's success to Commander Nakajima after returning to base. He then volunteered to take part in the next day's Tokkōtai kamikaze mission. His request was refused.

Instead, Nishizawa's A6M5 Zero was armed with a 250 kg (550 lb) bomb and flown by Naval Air Pilot 1st Class Tomisaku Katsumata. A less experienced pilot, he nevertheless dove into the es**rt carrier USS Suwanee off Surigao. Katsumata crashed on Suwanee's flight deck and careened into a torpedo bomber which had just been recovered. The two planes erupted upon contact as did nine other planes on her flight deck. Although the ship was not sunk, she burned for several hours, and 85 of her crewmen were killed, 58 were missing and 102 wounded.

The following day, his own Zero having been destroyed, Nishizawa and other pilots of the 201st Kōkūtai boarded a Nakajima Ki-49 Donryu ("Helen") transport aircraft in the morning and left for Clark Field in Mabalacat, Pampanga to ferry replacement Zeros from Luzon back to their airfield in Cebu.

Over Calapan on Mindoro Island, the Ki-49 transport was attacked by two F6F Hellcats of VF-14 squadron from the fleet carrier USS Wasp and was shot down in flames. Nishizawa died as a passenger, probably the victim of Lt. (j.g.) Harold P. Newell, who was credited with a "Helen" northeast of Mindoro that morning.

Upon learning of Nishizawa's death, the commander of the Combined Fleet, Admiral Soemu Toyoda, honored Nishizawa with a mention in an all-units bulletin and posthumously promoted him to the rank of lieutenant junior-grade. Nishizawa was also given the posthumous name Bukai-in Kohan Giko Kyoshi, a Zen Buddhist phrase that translates: "In the ocean of the military, reflective of all distinguished pilots, an honored Buddhist person." Because of the confusion towards the end of the Pacific war, the bulletin's publication was delayed and funeral services were not held until December 2, 1947. Nishizawa's remains were never recovered.