When the Lone Eagle Became a Phoenix

In this installment of ‘When Character Counted,’ we learn that Charles Lindbergh demonstrated his love of country at the risk of his life.

American aviator Charles Lindbergh (1902–1974) poses next to his airplane, the Spirit of St. Louis, in May 1927. Hulton Archive/Getty Images

On any average day this year, approximately 1,800 flights will cross the North Atlantic Ocean. Back and forth the aircraft fly, carrying passengers, cargo, and military personnel.

A hundred years ago, that sky was empty of everything but clouds and birds. Though a few other aviators had flown across that ocean between Europe and North America—some had died in the attempt—Charles Lindbergh (1902–1974) boarded the Spirit of St. Louis in New York City on May 20, 1927 and landed less than 34 hours later in Paris. He completed the first solo, nonstop flight across the Atlantic. That achievement brought both him and the possibilities of long-distance air travel worldwide acclaim. The 25-year-old American was praised almost as much for his modesty as his daring.

Charles Lindbergh was an American aviator. In 1927, he was the first person to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean. (Public Domain)  

In the years following, Lindbergh took part in other ventures involving flight, including space exploration and travel. In a failed attempt to save his sister-in-law from death by heart disease, he even designed a perfusion pump in the 1930s that was the forerunner to biomedical devices like the heart-lung machine.

The “Lone Eagle,” as some called him, also became a highly controversial figure during the 1930s, when he warned against U.S. political involvement in Europe and was consequently accused of supporting Nazi Germany.

By 1941, many reporters and politicians regarded Lindbergh as anti-American, an animosity fueled in part by his bitter feud with the Roosevelt administration over foreign policy. The garlands he’d won just years earlier withered away, and many Americans regarded him as a traitor. Then came the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.

Photograph taken from a Japanese plane during the torpedo attack on ships moored on both sides of Ford Island shortly after the beginning of the Pearl Harbor attack. U.S. Navy. Public Domain

In the Wilderness

Despite the calumnies, Lindbergh was always an American patriot. With the outbreak of war, he attempted to return to the Air Corps Reserve, from which he had resigned just months after Roosevelt had attacked him in a speech.

When the administration refused to entertain his request, Lindbergh worked for a time helping Henry Ford convert some automobile manufacturing plants to bomber production. As the administration’s animus against Lindbergh faded, he began testing various American military aircraft.

But his greatest wish was to fly in combat.

The Warrior

In 1944, that wish was granted. The Marines accorded the 42-year-old “observer status” in the Pacific, where he was soon given the unofficial rank of “Mr. Lindbergh.” Almost from the beginning, the most famous aviator in the world was flying combat missions.

To these forays against Japanese ships, aircraft, and ground troops, Lindbergh brought two remarkable talents. The first was his marksmanship. He proved as accurate firing machine guns from a P-38 as he had shooting skeet. Second, of course, was his skill as a pilot. As he later noted, “I do not think about the plane’s position; that is taken care of subconsciously. All my conscious attention is concentrated on the sight. The tracers are going home, that’s all that matters.”

In this 1944 photograph, Charles Lindbergh (R) meets with Maj. Thomas B. McGuire in the South Pacific Theatre. Public Domain

During his time in the Pacific, “Lucky Lindy” flew 50 combat missions as a civilian. During this time he also shot down a Japanese aircraft manned by a veteran fighter pilot.

The Mechanic

These were impressive feats, but Lindbergh’s technical expertise and knowledge of aircraft were by far his most important contribution to the war effort in the Pacific. On one of his early forays, several of the P-38 pilots had to turn back from a mission because of low fuel, yet Lindbergh had plenty of fuel left and continued his mission.

That evening, the commanding officer of the unit assembled his pilots for some instruction on operating the P-38 Lightning:

“In a pleasant manner Lindbergh explained cruise control techniques he had worked out for the Lightnings: reduce the standard 2,200 rpm to 1,600, set fuel mixtures to ‘auto-lean,’ and slightly increase manifold pressures. This, Lindbergh predicted, would stretch the Lightning’s radius by 400 miles, a nine-hour flight.”

Charles Lindbergh flew a Lockheed P-38 Lightning in WWII. Public Domain

This meeting not only boosted the war effort, but also revealed the level of mastery Lindbergh brought to the arts of aviation. The old man, as the young pilots saw him, could teach them some valuable tricks.

A Patriot Redeemed 

Many men might have allowed pride to get in the way of patriotism, refusing to ask an administration that loathed them to be reinstated in service. Here, however, Lindbergh’s love of country and desire to serve pushed aside his personal feelings.

Consequently, Charles Lindbergh is a prime example of the flawed hero. In other words, this human being made mistakes but nonetheless displayed courage and discipline when facing the fire, whether from an enemy in the Pacific or enemies back home. Like nearly all the other men and women who won fame and a place in history books, imperfections and blemishes of character were a part of his makeup. His life offers the rest of us a lesson: to view their motives and conflicts with a nuanced approach.

If nothing else, Lindbergh’s voluntary encounters with danger and death in the Pacific proved him an American patriot.

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