The Republic P-47 Thunderbolt remains to this day one of the all-time greatest fighter planes of World War II, not just remembered for its size and strength, but for the determination of the pilots who flew it. It is not a tale of machine and metal. It is a tale of grit and determination and the unbreakably tenacious drive to dominate the skies.
Thunderbolt was born in the mind of Alexander P. de Seversky’s imagination, who imagination in the 1920s and 1930s, imagined what would become Republic Aviation. These were innovative years that pushed the air age forward. Seversky-Gregor wing, initially implemented on the SEV-3, imparted strength and reliability to use in future aircraft. Experimental aircraft such as the AP-4, which originally proposed putting a turbosupercharger within the fuselage, and the P-43 Lancer set the stage for the XP-47B prototype. Republic withstood initial Army Air Corps testing, but ultimately, determination prevailed. In 1941, the Thunderbolt took flight and went on to dominate the skies of Europe at war.
The aircraft by this point was a strange beast. It tipped the scales at seven tons and was the largest single-engine fighter plane produced in existence when it was manufactured, and it powered a monster Pratt & Whitney R-2800 Double Wasp radial engine. Its eight .50 caliber machine guns were more than sufficient to blast enemy planes or blast ground targets into oblivion.
And add to that its strengthened fuselage and armor-plated cockpit, and the P-47 quickly developed a reputation as the sort of aircraft that would take some punishment and still return its pilot home in one piece. But before the D-40 model made its appearance in combat zones, the design had learned a thing or two about war and convinced pilots even more so that it could.
When the Thunderbolt first came to Europe, it was handicapped. Its limited range had been designed to avoid performing deep penetration bomber sorties over and beyond the lines of the enemy. But with drop tanks and the internal fueling practice to supplement, that niche was eventually occupied. Its cruise to high altitude capability made it a perfect escort for heavy bombers such as the B-17 and B-24. Versatile as well, it excelled against ground targets. Its dive speed made it tactically valuable, as pilots could cut through Luftwaffe formations or over German supply lines and infrastructure with equal killing capability.
In the Pacific Theatre, the Thunderbolt found new challenges. Pilots had to be able to handle low-level flight and long distances over open water. Range-extension Brisbane tanks assisted, and European dive-bombing tactics came back to the islands and oceans of the Pacific.
Squadrons even instructed individual squadron units to skip-bombing dives at ships. The ability to alternate again and again among assignments—dogfighting one day and strafing or bombing ground or sea targets the following day—assured the P-47’s value on the war’s varied battlefields.
As the war went on, the capabilities of the plane became legendary. Not the greatest climber, nor the in-close dogfight speed specialist, but the best at speed, endurance, and raw firepower. Commanders such as Colonel Hubert Zemke told his squadrons to fly in hard formation and vigilant watch, doubling the margin of survival and the margin of victory. A legend was created of Thunderbolts coming back with shot-through holes, engines sputtering, but pilots home safe.
The top targets of the P-47 were Luftwaffe Messerschmitt Bf 109s and Focke-Wulf Fw 190s. The subsequent arrival of the P-51 Mustang, however, when they entered the battle with their longer-range, sleeker fighter, took away from the Thunderbolt its deep-escort fighter status. The P-47 remained irreplaceable, though, as an air-to-ground fighter. It was able to scatter ordnance and wrath, and most pilots who flew the new bird never lost respect for the Thunderbolt.
Its reputation was also forged by the pilots who flew it. Brigadier General Paul Page Douglas commanded experimental tactics that tested the design to its limits of utility. Pilots Aces William Gorman and Francis “Gabby” Gabreski attested to the combat career of the P-47, with Allied countries like Mexico’s Escuadrón 201 imprinting their signature with the aircraft towards the end of the war. These verification accounts cemented the Thunderbolt as a weapon, a survival, and a victory tool.
The P-47 lives on today. Its design philosophy—strength, versatility, and ability to fly every type of mission—lives on in fighter design through the present day. Restored Thunderbolts thunder heavenward at air shows and occupy indomitable space in museums, reminders that once air power had fought the battles that determined world wars. Beyond a spectacle, the Thunderbolt is an endless reminder: imagination, determination, and power can determine the course of history.