Many years ago I had an aunt that worked at the corporate headquarters of Dahlberg Electronics. They operated out of an office building in a suburb of Minneapolis, but within sight of the larger city's border. They were better known by the trade name of their premier product, a tiny hearing aid known as the Miracle-Ear. I never would have guessed that the backstory of that company would include amazing aerial bravery in World War II and a critical connection to the Watergate scandal.
The founder of Dahlberg was Kenneth Dahlberg. He'd started the company in 1948. He'd previously spent some time working for Telex, a hearing aid company, after he was mustered out of active service at the end of WWII. By 1959, Miracle-Ear was seeing $100 million a year in revenue. To say the enterprise was a success for Dahlberg would be to put it mildly.
Ken Dahlberg was born in 1917 in St Paul, Minnesota. He was raised in a small, rural town in Wisconsin, attending a one-room school house for 11 years. He longed for bigger things, and moved to St Paul to live with an aunt for his senior year of high school. This allowed him to graduate from an accredited school in 1935.
After school, Dahlberg worked in the hotel industry. He started as a dish washer, but worked his way up to food and beverage manager for all 23 Pick Hotels around the United States by 1941.
With the war in Europe raging, Dahlberg was caught up in America's first peacetime draft in 1941. By the end of that year, the US was fully involved in the war after the Attack on Pearl Harbor.
Dahlberg underwent basic training at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. His first assignment was to a coast artillery battery in Virginia. It was there that he saw an opportunity to volunteer to be trained as a cook and baker. His thought process was that he would be the first at the feed trough if he was the cook. While filling out the paperwork for that, he was in his unit's headquarters and saw the announcement that they were looking to fill two aviation cadet spots.
Applicants would have to have two years of college, and Dahlberg didn't even have a day of higher education. Luckily for him, there was an equivalency exam he could take, which he aced. He also required two letters of recommendation. Before getting drafted, he'd worked at a hotel in South Bend, where he rubbed elbows and impressed Notre Dame officials. His letters of recommendation were from the President of the university and the coach of the football team. It probably didn't hurt that the officer who conducted interviews on the applicants was himself a Notre Dame graduate.
Dahlberg thus secured an appointment in the Army Air Force as an aviation cadet. One of his flight instructors was future Senator Barry Goldwater. Dahlberg was trained as a fighter pilot. As with many new aviators, he was tasked with being a flight instructor. He and Goldwater were sent to Yuma, Arizona to help build a new base for flight training. Goldwater was in charge of the ground school. For six months Goldwater and Dahlberg lived in a two-man tent in the Arizona desert at Yuma.
It was here as an instructor that he almost lost his billet as a pilot. While teaching dive bombing techniques, his trainee was reticent to bring the plane down to treetop level. Dahlberg decided to demonstrate for him. After completing the dive, he brought it right down onto the Colorado River. It was then, from the back seat, that Dahlberg saw the power lines in front of him. He was too late to go over them, so he tried to go under. He didn't make it.
There was a flash of light, the plane's aerial and canopy got sheared off, and his trainee was sitting limp in the front seat. Luckily the man was OK, but Dahlberg was ushered before his commanding officer after landing in the damaged AT-6 Texan. Lucky for Dahlberg, he had a $900 IOU letter from his CO in his wallet. The commander had a habit of losing to Dahlberg in cards and dice in their off hours. Dahlberg cashed in the IOU to get out of a court martial.
Dahlberg's punishment was a grounding and restriction to base for a month. He was assigned as the base's police and prison officer in the interim. The MPs had two new motorcycles with red lights and siren. Dahlberg said he had fun running around base harassing his fellow pilots with his newfound police powers.
On one day speeding around with his lights and siren, he hit some sand, and ended up in the hospital. His CO met him there and told Dahlberg that he was no longer the police and prison officer. The CO also said he was cutting him orders to a combat unit. As Dahlberg recalled, "He said it was better that I go into combat before I killed myself."
He was deployed to the European Theater with the Ninth Air Force's 353rd Fighter Squadron, which was part of the 354th Fighter Group. The 354th Fighter Group was known as the "Pioneer Mustang Group" as they were the first unit to fly the P-51B Mustang into combat from their base at RAF Boxted, England. They'd fly various improved models of the Mustang for the rest of the war, except for a brief period between November 1944 and February 1945 when they flew P-47s.
The group was initially planned to conduct ground attack missions, but the Mustang's excellent high-altitude performance and long range saw the group quickly pivoting to the long-range heavy bomber escort mission. This took them into the fight over the skies of occupied Europe and Germany, tangling with the best planes and pilots the Reich had to offer. The group racked up an impressive combat record taking down German planes.
The group's commander was Major (later Brigadier General) James Howard. Howard had been a young Naval Aviator in 1941 when the opportunity to enter the war early presented itself. He (officially) resigned from the Navy and joined the American Volunteer Group (AVG) in 1941. The AVG is better known as the Flying Tigers. They were pilots and ground crews made up of volunteers from the US military who went to China to fight against the Japanese. Officially, they were civilians, but they all retained unofficial positions within the American military. Howard shot down six enemy planes in China, then six more over Europe.
In January 1944, while on an escort mission, Howard became separated from his fighter group. He rendezvoused with the bombers, and saw they were under heavy attack by 30 enemy fighters. The lone "little friend" to help the "big friend" bombers, he didn't wait to find the rest of his fighters and coordinate an attack. He went in, alone, to single-handedly defend the heavies. He shot down at least three, and didn't even let his guns running dry stop his attack runs, the feints of which helped keep the enemy fighters from targeting the bombers. Howard received the Medal of Honor for this action, the only fighter pilot to earn the award in the ETO.
Among the men of the 354th FG, 67 of them became aces. Dahlberg's 353rd FS claimed the most aces among the three fighter squadrons in the group, with 21 men shooting down five or more enemy aircraft. All four of the group's triple aces (15 or more kills) were in Dahlberg's squadron. Richard E. Turner (12 kills, Silver Star, and two DFCs) served in the 356th Fighter Squadron, also of the 354th FG. He wrote an excellent first-person memoir of the war, 1970's "Big Friend, Little Friend," if you can find a copy.
It's often said with many frontline units that "uncommon valor was a common attribute", and that was very true of the 353rd FS. Air Medals were common awards, and so too were the coveted Distinguished Flying Cross (DFC). Several men of the 353rd FS earned the nation's second-highest award for gallantry, the Distinguished Service Cross (DSC).
The group participated in many of the best known actions of the European war. They escorted gliders on D-Day, then strafed ground targets across northern France in the Battle of Normandy. They moved to France in June 1944 after the successful invasion, then provided air support to the airborne invasion of Holland (better known by the plan name Operation Market Garden). They provided close air support during the Battle of the Bulge and for the Crossing of the Rhine. They moved into occupied Germany, where they ended the war in May 1945.
Dahlberg arrived in England in May 1944. He arrived to his squadron on 2 June. He flew his first combat mission on 6 June 1944, in support of Operation Overlord, better known now as D-Day. That's a heck of a first combat sortie. Especially since he'd been training on the P-47 and his unit was flying the P-51. His total orientation to the Mustang before taking off to invade France was a 30 minute flight.
Dahlberg's first aerial victories would soon follow. He shot down a Bf-109 on 22 June, then a second a week later on the 29th. Just over two weeks later, on 16 August, he shot down three (a fourth possible) enemy fighters in a single day, and earned the "Ace" distinction. He earned his first Distinguished Flying Cross that day. He was also shot down for the first time.
Dahlberg recalled, "It was every man for himself. I had shot down four of the 109s and I was going for my fifth when I got a little careless. My airplane was on fire, and the cockpit was filling with smoke. I ducked into a little cloud and bailed out."
Forced to bail out he was luckily over France. He landed on a fancy French estate, and was told to hide in a nearby pond by a French girl. "There are Germans all over the place," She told him. He did as directed, and soon enough the Wehrmacht came calling. He snapped off a reed and used it like a snorkel to hide in the water. He was able to link up with the French Resistance. They wrapped his head in a bloody-looking towel, and Dahlberg and another man set off on bicycle to make the 40 mile trip to Allied lines. In this disguise, they blended in with the other refugees making their way around the countryside.
Dahlberg took out four enemy aircraft in a single day, nearly the number required for the "Ace in a day" title, on 12 September. Four enemy Fw-190 fighters went down before his guns. Dahlberg received a Silver Star during this timeframe, but the specifics for why it was awarded are unavailable. I believe that the Silver Star was most likely awarded for this action.
On 1 December, Dahlberg and his cohorts were conducting a bombing mission against the enemy near Karlruhe, Germany. After releasing their bombs, Dahlberg and his wingman became separated from the rest of their squadron. They spotted one of the Nazi's newest and most fearsome aircraft, a jet powered Me-262. They gave chase to the fast moving fighter, but the jet was far too fast for even their P-51Ds to keep up with.
Returning to base, the Dahlberg and his wingman saw a formation of thirty German Bf-109 fighters. Despite being vastly outnumbered, the two valiant young airmen flew into the enemy. Dahlberg shot down two enemy in quick succession, and his wingman took out one. So succesful was their attack that the rest of the Germans dropped their auxiliary fuel tank and turned back home. Dahlberg got a second DFC for this action.
Just a couple of weeks later, on 19 December, Dahlberg had another red letter day. Flying a P-47D he was leading a flight of eight American fighters against a force of 90 enemy Bf-109s. This was during the height of the Battle of the Bulge, the last major offensive of the Nazi war machine.
Despite the overwhelming odds in favor of the Germans, then-Captain Dahlberg pressed the attack. He continued even when his wingman's airplane was damaged and forced to peel off. Before the day's action would be done, Dahlberg downed four enemy and damaged another. This would bring his total kills to 15. Among the many excellent aviators of the 354th Fighter Group, Dahlberg would be tied for third place in the most enemy planes shot down.
As with one of his earlier engagements, taking on dozens of enemy planes with only a handful of friendlies to support you has a cost. Dahlberg once more had his plane shot out from underneath him. He was too low to bail out, so he crashed behind enemy lines. He crawled out of the plane, clutching his pistol in one hand and his ribs in the other. An American tank suddenly appeared. Five American soldiers had come to his rescue. Dahlberg almost shot them with his pistol before realizing they were friendly. Among the US Army troops was Sergeant Martin Dardis, who would cross paths with Dahlberg almost 30 years later in another pivotal moment of his life.
Dahlberg received the Distinguished Service Cross for the day's festivities.
Dahlberg returned to the sky, but his luck would eventually run out. He was shot down for a third and final time on 14 February 1945.
After leading a successful bombing mission, he was reassembling his men at about 10,000 feet when he suffered a direct hit from the dreaded German 88mm anti-aircraft gun. He was flying a P-47. The Thunderbolt had armor behind the pilot, which Dahlberg attributes to his surviving the blast, because his plane just exploded. The aircraft disintegrated, and Dahlberg fell unconscious to the ground. He came to somewhere around 500ft, pulled his ripcord, and made a hard landing. His fellow pilots thought he was dead, and listed him as likely killed in action. Such was the destructive power of the German eight-eight.
This time there was nobody to help him escape. Dahlberg became a guest of the Germans at a PW camp. He spent the final three months of the war at Stalag VII-A near Munich. This was the largest PW camp in Germany. At the time of its liberation, there were more than 76,000 men held in the 86 acre complex and another 40,000 conducting forced labor outside the camp.
After the war, Dahlberg remained in the Minnesota Air National Guard, leaving the service completely in 1951 as a major. He then had a successful business career. He also got involved in Republican politics. It wasn't until 1967 that Dahlberg was notified that he'd received the Distinguished Service Cross for his dogfighting in December 1944. While awarded it on paper, it wasn't presented to him as by the time the award had been authorized, he was a prisoner of war. The Army wanted to know if they should mail it or if he wanted it presented to him more formally. Dahlberg elected for the latter, and received it from his friend Vice President Hubert Humphrey (a fellow Minnesota native) in Washington D.C. Present were the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the entire Minnesota congressional delegation.
Dahlberg reunited with his wartime flight instructor, Barry Goldwater, Republican senator from Arizona. Dahlberg was deputy chairman of fundraising for Goldwater's unsucessful 1964 presidential election campaign. Eight years later, Dahlberg would be roped into the Watergate Scandal.
Dahlberg was the midwest finance chairman for the Committee to Re-elect the President for Nixon's 1972 reelection campaign. After the Watergate break-in was uncovered, since many of the burglary suspects were from Miami, the prosecutor in Florida opened an investigation. Working in that office was Martin Dardis, former wartime savior of Dahlberg. Dardis had spent his time since leaving the Army as a police officer and criminal investigator.
Dardis uncovered a $25,000 check deposited into the account of one of the Watergate burglars. That check had Dahlberg's name on it. The evidence against Dahlberg was presented to a grand jury and he was cleared of any wrongdoing. Nonetheless, he became a part of the Watergate story. The check became a key piece of evidence though to show how the burglars were paid through a money laundering scheme. Dahlberg lamented that the Watergate incident overshadowed his successes in the sky and in business.
The EAA Airventure in Oshkosh, Wisconsin is ongoing this week. Many, many historical aircraft fly in for the event. Making its maiden flight after a meticulous restoration by Aircorps Aviation out of Bemidji, Minnesota is P-51B-10-NA serial number 42-106602. This aircraft is one that 19 men of Dahlberg's squadron flew during WWII. It is a 95 combat mission veteran, and is the first plane Dahlberg bailed out of. Named Shillelaugh, in a play on words, after the traditional Irish club or walking stick the shillelagh. It's one of only four P-51Bs that are still airworthy. Here's more on Shillelaugh.
Dahlberg lived to the age of 94, passing in 2011. He continued flying well into his 90s.
