Donald McPherson, the last surviving American World War II ace pilot, died peacefully at his Nebraska home on August 14, 2025, at the age of 103. His passing marks the end of an era for U.S. military aviation, as he was the final living member of a legendary group of pilots who achieved "ace" status—an honor reserved for those who shot down five or more enemy aircraft in combat.
According to the Beatrice Daily Sun, McPherson’s death was confirmed by his family, who emphasized that, despite his extraordinary wartime record, he wished to be remembered first as a man of faith, family, and service to his community. His daughter, Beth Delabar, said, "When it’s all done and Dad lists the things he wants to be remembered for … his first thing would be that he’s a man of faith."
Born in Nebraska, McPherson enlisted in the United States Navy on January 5, 1942, at just 18 years old. The Navy had recently waived its two-year college requirement for aviation cadet training, opening the door for young men like McPherson to join the fight. He completed an intensive 18-month flight program and earned his commission and wings at Corpus Christi, Texas, on August 12, 1944. Trainees were not permitted to marry during the program, so he and his sweetheart, Thelma, wed immediately after his graduation—a partnership that would last through war and peace.
Shortly after marrying, McPherson was assigned to Fighter Squadron 83 (VF-83) and transferred to the aircraft carrier USS Essex in March 1945, as the Pacific conflict reached its climactic phase. The squadron quickly became a key part of the battle for Okinawa, one of the most intense and pivotal campaigns of the war. As reported by Fox News and the National World War II Museum, between March and June 1945, VF-83 flew an astonishing 6,560 sorties from the Essex, contributing to the destruction of 220 Japanese planes in the air and 72 on the ground.
McPherson’s path to ace status was marked by daring, skill, and a measure of luck. On April 6, 1945, near Kikai Shima off Okinawa, he shot down two Aichi D3A Val dive bombers. He later described the harrowing moment in a video played at the Fagen Fighters WWII Museum: "I shoved my plane’s nose down and fired on the first aircraft, sending that pilot into the ocean. But then I did a wingover to see what happened to the second one. By using full throttle, my Hellcat responded well, and I squeezed the trigger and it exploded. Then I turned and did a lot of violent maneuvering to try to get out of there without getting shot down."
McPherson’s combat record continued to grow. On May 5, 1945, he destroyed three Kawanishi E7k float biplanes, which were being used as kamikazes. His missions were fraught with danger; on one occasion, his F6F Hellcat was struck by a 20mm cannon shell that penetrated the fuselage just a foot behind his seat and severed a cable controlling the tail. As he recounted to the National World War II Museum, "Upon inspection of the damage to the airplane, we found that a 20mm cannon shell had penetrated the fuselage about a foot behind my back and severed one of the cables that controlled the tail surface."
Despite these close calls, McPherson survived the war and returned home to Adams, Nebraska, where he dedicated himself to his family and community. According to NBC News and the Beatrice Daily Sun, he became a letter carrier, helped found youth baseball and softball leagues, served as a Scoutmaster, and took on leadership roles in the Adams United Methodist Church, American Legion, and Veterans of Foreign Wars. The community later honored both Donald and Thelma by naming the local ballfield McPherson Field—a testament to their enduring impact on Adams.
His daughter Donna Mulder recalled how her father interpreted his wartime survival as a sign of a higher purpose. "Maybe God is not done with me," she said he would often reflect, especially after learning how close he’d come to death in the cockpit. This sense of faith and gratitude shaped his postwar life, guiding his many acts of service and his commitment to mentoring young people.
Throughout his life, McPherson received numerous accolades for his military service. He was awarded the Congressional Gold Medal—one of the nation’s highest civilian honors—and three Distinguished Flying Crosses for his valor and skill in combat. Yet, as his daughter Beth Delabar noted, "It hasn’t been till these later years in his life that he’s had so many honors and medals." For McPherson, these awards were secondary to his legacy as a man of faith and a pillar of his community.
His achievements as a pilot were recognized nationally. The American Fighter Aces Association and the Fagen Fighters WWII Museum both listed McPherson as the last living U.S. ace from World War II. Just days before his death, he was honored at the museum’s Victory at Sea event in Minnesota, a fitting tribute to his place in history.
McPherson’s story is not just one of wartime heroics. It’s a tale of resilience, humility, and service. After flying dangerous missions over the Pacific, he returned to the rhythms of small-town life, quietly shaping the lives of those around him. In 2024, he even enjoyed a ride in a restored WWII-era plane, an experience that brought back memories of his days flying the Hellcat.
He is survived by his two daughters, a son, and many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. The cause of death was not disclosed, but his passing was described as peaceful. His life, spanning more than a century, bridged eras of war and peace, and his example continues to inspire.
As the sun sets on the era of the World War II aces, Donald McPherson’s legacy endures—in the fields of Adams, Nebraska, in the annals of military history, and in the hearts of those who knew him best.
