Pilots

It’s been more than 50 years since pilots fought valiantly in P–47s and P–51s in the skies over Europe. Precious few of those pilots are around anymore. Many who remain are content to put their feet up and live quietly with their memories. But there’s at least one pilot who flew those airplanes in the Big War—and is still an active airline pilot. At 78, FedEx DC–10 flight engineer Harris B. "Wil" Wilhoite is probably the oldest active airline pilot in the United States.

Born on November 18, 1921, in Hartford, Kentucky, Wilhoite enlisted at 18 in the Army Air Corps at Fort Knox; his first assignment was supplying maps to pilots who flew observation planes in the 12th Observation Squadron. Private Wilhoite befriended one of the pilots, who first encouraged Wilhoite to become an observer and later encouraged him to become a pilot.

In April 1943, aviation cadet Wilhoite soloed in a Ranger-powered PT–19. He says of that experience, "I knew I had found my niche." Training continued in the BT–13 "Vultee Vibrator" and later the T–6.

After graduation, 2nd Lt. Wilhoite was told one day, "We’re gonna check you out in a P–40." But Wilhoite had no training on the P–40. An officer assured him that a sergeant would meet him at the airplane and "it would be all right." The sarge did a "blindfold cockpit check," showed him how to start the Allison engine, and away Lt. Wilhoite went.

Wilhoite later flew the P–47 Thunderbolt, which he describes as "a monster." They often escorted bombers to 45,000 feet without pressurized cabins or pressure suits. "All we had was an oxygen mask. No one told us we needed a pressurized cabin." He flew 78 missions over Europe in the Jug.

Wilhoite’s only air-to-air combat came one day during World War II when his flight encountered several Fw 190s. When he finally managed to get one of the Focke-Wulfs in his sights, his guns wouldn’t fire. When he and his wingman boxed the German in, the enemy pilot decided to bail out rather than face the two muscular Thunderbolts. Later in the war, Wilhoite encountered a pair of Me 262 jets. When he turned on them to fight, it was "…like a Ford Model T chasing a Corvette."

When he came home from the war, Wilhoite instructed in T–6s at Randolph Air Force Base. One day, he slipped out to Williams Air Force Base in Phoenix and "stole" eight hours in a P–80. No, he’d never been in a jet before; he just jumped in and flew it. "We did a lot of things like that back then," Wilhoite admits with more amazement than pride.

In 1950, when the Korean War broke out, Wilhoite buffaloed a major who was passing out assignments into believing that he was an "experienced" P–80 pilot and got assigned to the 49th Fighter Squadron—flying the F–80. Loaded with bombs and bullets, the heavily armed F–80 was a different airplane than the empty one he’d "borrowed" at Williams. He completed 101 missions in type.

Though fighters are Wilhoite’s first love, he flew transports, too, including the B–25, DC–3 (C–47), and the DC–4 (C–54). His last assignment before leaving the military in 1965 was flying the T–38 Talon.

After he left the military, Executive Jet Aviation hired veteran Wilhoite to fly its charter Learjets and Falcons; he also got his first taste of big iron as first officer on the Boeing 707. In 1972, he left EJA to join a young, upstart package airline called Federal Express, where he captained the Falcon 20, then the Boeing 727. When Wilhoite turned 60 back in 1981, he had to give up the left seat, courtesy of the FAA’s age-60 rule.

Going to the backseat as a flight engineer was "the toughest thing I ever had to do in my life," Wilhoite admits. He says he doesn’t mind flying behind pilots who are many years his junior, though he bristles when a captain tries to put something over on him. Wilhoite has been flying longer than many pilots have been alive.

When asked which airplane he missed along the way in his career—which one he would like to go back and fly—he blurts out, "P–38!" before the question is finished. "It was an absolutely beautiful, magnificent machine," he continues, his voice noticeably softening. "Such a seek, beautiful airplane…and I love to hear the engines on that thing. Oh, it sounded so good…I wanted to fly it so bad."

Wilhoite’s son, Ed, is a pilot, too. "I never tried to influence him," the elder Wilhoite claims. After a career in the military flying A–7s and F–16s, the younger Wilhoite is now a 727 captain for FedEx.

These days, when Wilhoite flies over Europe in the DC–10, "I look down and can’t believe I was there when I was 23 years old. It’s almost unreal. Here I am all these years later, but I don’t feel any different. I’m just as healthy now as I was when I was a young man." Incidentally, Wilhoite holds a first class medical with, he is proud to point out, "no limitations." He doesn’t even wear eyeglasses.

But he says he has no plans to retire. "I want to be a Ty Cobb or a Babe Ruth, someone who does something that no one else has ever done before," he explains. When he finally does quit, Wilhoite wants to "get an instructor’s license and fly around the country."