Donald M. McPherson, the Nebraska farm boy who grew into a Navy fighter pilot and the last surviving American “ace” of World War II, has died at 103.
He passed on August 14 in Adams, Nebraska, closing a chapter in US history that spanned dogfights over the Pacific to decades of quiet service back home.
McPherson earned his place in the annals of aviation aboard the aircraft carrier USS Essex (CV-9), flying F6F Hellcat fighters with Fighter Squadron 83.
By the war’s end, he had downed five enemy planes, a feat that gave him the coveted “ace” designation recognized by both the American Fighter Aces Association and the Fagen Fighters World War II Museum. His combat record brought him the Congressional Gold Medal and three Distinguished Flying Crosses, though he rarely spoke of the medals.
One mission stayed with him. While patrolling over the Pacific, he spotted two Japanese aircraft skimming low across the water. Diving on the first, his guns tore the plane apart, sending it crashing into the sea. He swung his Hellcat into a wingover, throttled full power, and fired on the second until it exploded in midair. Only later did he realize just how close he had come—when a sailor pointed out a bullet hole in his plane, a foot behind his seat.
“Maybe God is not done with me,” McPherson later told his daughter.
For McPherson, survival carried responsibility. After the war, he returned to the family farm in Adams, married his wartime sweetheart Thelma, and redirected his energy toward faith, family, and community. He helped build local baseball and softball leagues, served as Scoutmaster, and held leadership roles in the Methodist church, the American Legion, and the VFW.
The town ballfield was renamed McPherson Field in honor of him and Thelma, who kept score and ran the concession stand.
Even in his later years, as museums and historians honored him as the last living US ace, McPherson preferred to be remembered not just for the skies he conquered but for the lives he touched at home. As his daughter put it: “His first thing would be that he’s a man of faith.”
Donald McPherson’s story ends where it began, in Nebraska—but it carries the sweep of a nation at war, the grit of a pilot who stared down death, and the humility of a man who came home and built something lasting for the next generation.