Sea of Japan, 1952: A U.S. Navy F9F-5 Panther was the bogey in a furball featuring half a dozen Soviet MiG-15s which, the Panther pilot had been assured, never ventured over water.
California, 1956: Cruising at 32,000 ft at night, the North American FJ-3 inexplicably lost its windscreen and canopy. The violent wind twisted the pilot’s helmet 180 degrees, rather restricting his forward vision.
El Centro, California, 1957: Flying an F9F on a banner-tow takeoff, the pilot was too low to eject, sustaining multiple fractures of the neck and back which, by all rights, should have ended his flying career.
Key West, Florida, 1965: The Phantom was on long final, both engines on fire with one shut down and the other in burner, and the rear cockpit empty.
Any of the foregoing would provide a There-I-Was tale. But all involved the same remarkable aviator.
==
I’ve known or met about a dozen Medal of Honor recipients and wrote two books on the subject:
Above and Beyond: The Aviation Medals of Honor (Smithsonian Press, 2001) and Heroes: U.S. Army Medal of Honor Recipients (Caliber Press, 2006). But until this month I did not know a contemporary recipient of the nation’s highest military award.
Captain W. Royce Williams, USN (Retired) received the Medal last week during President Donald Trump’s State of the Union Address. First Lady Melania Trump draped the pale-blue ribbon with bronze pendant around Royce’s neck. He’s 100 years old and received the award 73 years after the event.
Mr. Trump also awarded the Medal to Army Chief Warrant Officer Eric Slover who was seriously wounded in the spectacular January 3 operation seizing Venezuelan strongman Maduro to face criminal charges in the U.S. Slover overcame four bullet wounds to continue leading the mission in his MH-47 Chinook helicopter.
(Sidebar: Slover’s eight weeks from the action to presentation provides a significant contrast to Williams’ 73 years. I only find two faster awards among more than 100 aviation Medals of Honor.)
Little known is that Royce’s South Dakota connections included the Foss family, and Royce’s brother became a Marine Corps aviator.
Royce received his wings of gold at the end of World War II and flew Hellcats, Corsairs and Bearcats before transitioning to jets. During the Korean War he flew Grumman F9F Panthers with VF-781 aboard USS Oriskany, logging 70 missions.
In 2009 Royce and I wrote his entry in The Hook magazine’s “Where Are They Now?” series. As far as I can tell it was the first open-source account of Royce’s November 18, 1952 dogfight that lasted an eternal 35 minutes. (Most jet combats are determined in two minutes or less). When the Evil Empire collapsed in 1990, former Soviet records became available. In large part the declassification was achieved by one of Royce’s former commanding officers, the late Vice Admiral Dave Richardson whose intelligence background influenced the National Security Agency to release some details.
The mission began as a combat air patrol from Oriskany, sailing within range of the Soviet bastion on Kamchatka although Russian aircraft rarely ventured as far as U.S. task forces. But when radar plotted multiple bogies about 80 miles distant, Royce’s four-plane division was vectored out.
From there things went sideways. One of the Panthers developed mechanical trouble and turned for base with its wingman. Royce and Lieutenant (jg) Dave Rowlands intercepted only 40 miles from Oriskany, caught at a serious altitude deficit.
In the wrapped-up, churning dogfight Royce only had about 20 seconds worth of 20mm ammunition. He used it wisely.
The Navy remains conflicted as to who did what in Royce’s epic mission. The original press release did not credit Royce with any victories but here are the official results based on subsequent debriefs:
Lt. Elmer Royce Williams: one MiG-15 destroyed and one damaged.
Lt(jg) John Davidson Middleton: one MiG-15 destroyed.
Lt(jg) David Morris Rowlands: one MiG-15 probable.
Recently U.S. researchers found that the MiGs were from a Russian Navy fighter regiment. The admitted losses were two pilots killed in action and one fatally crashed upon return.
The long-long trail to Royce’s Medal of Honor began with award of the Silver Star in 1953. After a years-long effort aiming for a Medal of Honor upgrade, Royce received the Navy Cross in January 2023. But his legion of admirers and supporters continued pressing for “the big one” and ultimately, they prevailed.
The Medal of Honor warrant specifies armed combat with an enemy of the United States, demonstrating “conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at risk of one’s life above and beyond the call of duty.”
Royce has always downplayed the “above and beyond” aspect, saying “I was just trying to stay alive!” Outnumbered by superior aircraft, he could not disengage so he had to stay in the fight, whittling down the odds while taking hits.
(Seldom noted: Royce’s straight-wing F9F-5 was markedly slower than swept-wing MiG-15s, which had a higher ceiling and outclimbed the Panther at least two to one.)
Demonstrating superb airmanship, rather than ejecting, Royce kept his stricken Panther under control at 170 knots (about 40 more than the usual landing speed) and planted it on Oriskany’s deck to snag an arresting wire. Thereby he saved the U.S. Treasury at least $140,000 ($1.7 million today).
Some accounts state that Royce’s jet (Navy BuNo 125459) was so heavily damaged that it was pushed overboard. But despite more than 250 holes in its airframe the “Grumman Iron Works” product was sent ashore for repair, remaining until 1959.
Royce’s subsequent good-deal assignments were the Air Force Fighter Weapons School and the Navy Fleet Air Gunnery Unit.
Following nonflying “payback” assignments, in 1963 Royce upgraded to Vought’s F-8 Crusader, the navy’s first supersonic aircraft. Commander Williams assumed command of VF-33 during a Mediterranean cruise, subsequently transitioning to the two-seat McDonnell F-4 Phantom. He reported to his second war in 1965-66, leading Air Wing 11 aboard USS Kitty Hawk.
Due to his lingering 1957 injuries, Royce lost his pilot rating but qualified as a naval flight officer, the first NFO air wing commander. Among subsequent duty, one of the most gratifying was running the Navy’s POW-MIA affairs office.
Back to sea, Captain Williams conned USS El Dorado, the Pacific Fleet’s amphibious command ship. He and Cam thoroughly enjoyed two years in Japan before Royce retired in 1975.
Or so he thought. Recalled to duty in 1981, Royce became commodore of a West Coast training convoy. For a supersonic aviator, the transition was surprisingly fun.
Royce closed his logbook with 4,000 flight hours and more than 500 landings aboard 12 carriers.
He remains one of America’s finest aviators with a devoted circle of friends and admirers.
